Pestilence
by KayLyn666
Summary: Set after season 3. When a small group of survivors make a break for the prison, the prison group is anything but welcoming to begin with. But when the fever strikes one of their own, the group finds themselves torn between trust and anything but, as they're forced together to come to terms with what is and fight to save the life of someone they love.
1. Introduction

_Pestilence – a contagious or infectious epidemic disease that is virulent and devastating. _

_Introduction_

When news first broke that the world was going to shit, where were you? What were you doing? Who were you with? What were the first thoughts to cross your mind? Did you reach for your loved ones? Did you pack up and hit the road? Did you call your local news stations, begging for it to be a hoax?

I remember exactly where I was the day the outbreak hit my small town. I remember exactly what I was doing. I remember exactly who I was with and the first thoughts to cross my mind. I remember exactly what I had planned, because I didn't get a chance to think. I didn't get a chance to react before my world, my own, little world, was among the first to come crashing down.

It was a cool night, the night it all fell apart. I remember tucking my daughter, Mackenzie in for the night, her favorite teddy bear clutched loosely in her arms as she drifted into a peaceful slumber. I remember singing her favorite song to her, as her little, bright blue eyes slowly closed, her long, amber hair falling around her in waves of soft satin. I remember kissing the top of her head before turning off the lights.

I remember walking down the hallway to warn my son that he had five minutes left before lights out. He never listened, what 10 year old boy did? He would be up well into the night, reading his comics like any boy his age would. I remember letting our old collie, Bes, out into the back yard for one last time before locking the door.

And I remember shooting my husband in the face not even an hour later.

I was in the yard with Bes when a bone chilling scream tore from the upstairs bedroom. I ran through the door faster than ever, our dog at my heels as I stumbled up the stairs, convinced my son had just heard a creak or a crack. What I saw, will haunt me the rest of my life.

There, in the middle of his bedroom, was his father, crouched over his body, moans escaping his lips as he bit into the flesh of our eldest child's throat. I felt my insides tighten with pure instinct. I grabbed the baseball bat that sat by the door as it did for the last three years. I swung with all my strength, beating the man I swore to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, from our son's limp, bloody body.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I screamed, my voice hitting that certain note that only a mother in despair could manage.

He turned on me, his eyes red, his jaw flapping. Then I saw it. The bite. His throat was torn, his shirt even more so. His arm was hanging limply at his side. He came at me, his movements slow and weak.

I don't know where the instinct came from. Maybe it was primitive. The natural will to survive. Before I could comprehend what I had just witnessed, I found myself digging in the back of our closet, reaching for the old shotgun my father had given us when we first got married – a gesture I have long since learned to appreciate. I tore it free from its post, my hands blindly searching for the bullets we kept on the very top shelf of our closet, far out of the way of the children.

Once locked and loaded, I took a deep breath. I could hear him scratching at the door. I braced myself against the dresser, before pulling the door open, my hands shaking just slightly.

I aimed. I pulled the trigger.

There in the doorway of our master bedroom, I shot my husband in the face.

* * *

"Katie! Run!" Scottie screamed, pulling my daughter after him as he aimed his dull blade into the head of the Walker closest to him. Mackenzie flinched and tried to run towards me, but Scottie's grip on her was stronger than her will to make a break for it.

Over the months that had passed since we left our home and hit the road, a small group of us had banded together, keeping each other alive. Even if just barely. Scottie was our unspoken leader, a strong, determined man with the skills it took to survive in the wild. Scottie proved to be more than just a good hunter in that time – he proved that he had more heart and more determination to survive than most.

I was ducking and dodging my way over to my companions, my arm bloody from the fight with the Walkers. I hadn't been bitten – a misplaced knife managed to slice me from shoulder to elbow. Grace, a young female we recently met, was at my back, her blade slashing and plunging into the heads of the Walkers nearest us.

"Grace, go far," I hissed as I broke away from her, my good hand reaching for a nearby branch. I pulled myself up like I had so many times before, balancing carelessly on the branches as I leapt from tree to tree until I was hovering over my daughter.

I took out my slingshot, along with the hard, metal balls we had made for this very purpose. Taking careful aim, I took down the Walkers, one at a time, until there was nothing but silence and the beating of six frantic hearts.

Grace was closer to my age than anyone else. A young, carefree woman with golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her sister, Angel, was the exact opposite. Her dark eyes shown with hate as she stepped over the dead, her expression grim, her stance guarded.

Then there was Victor, a thick, violent man whose hate for the Walkers was greater than anyone else's. He had lost his wife, son, and daughter in the early days of the outbreak. We couldn't blame him for harboring so much hate, but at times, that hate could pour over and cause more chaos than anything else.

"All clear!" I hissed loudly as I carefully leaped from my perch, landing silently beside Scottie, who was nursing what looked like a fractured wrist. Kenzie was shaking like a leaf beside him. Though she was six now, she was still too young to fully grasp what was going on. All she knew was that things were not how they were when she was young.

"We're getting close," Scottie observed, his eyes scanning the location. "We should break the prison by tonight if we move quickly."

"We need to take a break," Grace said softly, her eyes scanning my arm. "We have to tend to our wounds and count our losses before we go any farther."

Her statement was true. In the last two weeks, we had lost more than half of our group, along with them, most of our supplies. We choose to travel light, carrying only what we truly had to, but when we lost our doctor in the fight, we also lost with him, all of our medical supplies, including the bandages that would have come in handy right then.

"You're losing too much blood," Scottie noticed, his hand coming up to brush away the stray dirt that was settling in my wound.

"I'm sorry about that," Grace said softly.

"No harm, no foul," I said gently, a smile playing on my lips. "I've seen far worse."

"If an infection sets in…" Scottie said tensely.

"If it does, then you're putting me down, end of story," I shrugged. "Let's keep moving. I'd love for nothing more than a break from the never ending running and worrying for a change."

"What even makes you so sure they'll let us in? I mean, I'm sure I could take down the scruffy looking one, but the one with the crossbow? He's no match for any of us," Scottie said with a shake of his head.

"I just have this feeling," I said with a shrug. "Besides, they're human. I'd rather take my chances with humans, you know?"

"C'mon," Angel said darkly. "Less chatter, more walking."

"Always a rush with you, huh Ang?" Scottie joked.

"She's right," Victor said tiredly. "The faster we move, the more likely we can sleep behind stone walls for once."

"Let's go," I nodded. I picked Mackenzie up, despite the pain in my arm, and carried her carefully on my back like I had been for so long now. "Maybe tonight we can sleep with only one eye open."

Everyone agreed with that. It had been a long time since any of us got any real sleep. Same went for food. We'd been living off wild berries and roots for almost a year and none of us were strong enough to put up with much more. Scottie had a nagging cough that had us all worried, Grace looked like a bag of bones, and poor Mackenzie was barely able to stand for more than a few minutes, much less run or hide.

We kept moving until we cleared the trees. That was when we realized we hadn't scouted the area well enough. From where we stood at the tree line, we had a good quarter mile from the prison. In between us and the safety of the fence, was a mass of Walkers.

"Retreat," Scottie hissed, changing his course quickly. We all followed until we were tucked in a small cluster of trees.

"We need a plan," Victor said urgently.

"We're never going to clear them out," Grace sighed with defeat.

"No, but we can distract them," Angel said quickly. "Me and Kate are fast. If we move fast enough, we might be able to catch the attention of the people inside. Maybe, just maybe, we can make a break for it."

"And if they shoot first, ask questions later?" I asked.

"Then we'll be dead. We can only hope they'll aim for the head," she said sourly.

"I'm game," I nodded. It was a better plan than anything the rest of us could come up with.

"Be careful," Scottie nodded as he took Mackenzie from me. "Give the signal and we'll come fast."

"Good shit," I nodded. "If I…If I don't make it, take care of my daughter, alright?"

"Absolutely," he said with a tight smile. I nodded my thanks before kissing my daughter on the top of her head.

"I love you, Mackenzie," I said softly.

"You too, mommy," she whispered. I noticed how tired her eyes looked. She was exhausted. We all were.

Without further discussion, Angel and I made a break for the prison, blades drawn. It didn't take long for us to realize our one fatal error. We never discussed how we'd stick together. We were quickly broken apart, each ending up without the other to watch her back. It was too late. Too late to change course and even worse, too late to turn back.

* * *

_A/n - I decided it was about time for a new TWD ficlet, so let's see how this one goes. ;) Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated and I'd love to hear back from the readers. Love it? Hate it? Want to tear it apart? Any and all feedback is welcomed. _


	2. Chapter 1 - What We Wouldn't Do

I wasn't used to being out in the open, without my normal escape route in the trees. I was taken over by the deeply embedded instinct to run and find cover, but I fought through it. I had to. My group, no, my family, relied on Angel and I being able to make it through the Walkers.

So rather than run, I stood my ground and fought like no tomorrow, taking down Walker after Walker, even as the last ounces of strength left my body.

"Kate, run!" Angel screamed from where she stood by the fence. She was slashing and clawing at the Walkers closest to her. "C'mon!"

I made a break for her. I skidded and slumped, the loss of blood finally taking the last of the strength from my body. Just as I was about to give up, a well-placed arrow took down the Walker who was slowly making her way towards me, her jaw gnashing together. I turned around and saw the man Scottie had been talking about perched high in one of the towers. I nodded once before turning back to Angel, who was trying her hardest to clear a path for me.

"Stop!" someone shouted. I didn't listen. Instead, I came up beside one of my dearest friends and together, back to back, we did what could only be classified as a death dance around the Walkers, each pouring the last of their strength into the fight. A fight we'd done so many times before. A grueling, endless cycle of slashes and stabs.

Scottie used to make comments on how in sync Angel and I were when we went into something back to back. Our movements were fluid-like, our pace guarded, our goal set in sight. Together, we were a deadly pair.

"You're gonna have to get them to talk," she hissed as we turned slowly, stepping to the right then the left. "You're gonna have to convince them to let us in."

"Probably not the easiest thing in the world," I muttered. Another arrow whizzed past, giving us enough leverage to turn to the gate.

"Who are you?" the scruffy man we had seen several times asked as he looked at us through the gate.

"I'm Katie Anderson and this is Angel Robbins. We're from north a ways," I said as loudly as I dared. "We've been traveling with four others, my daughter Mackenzie, Angel's sister, Grace, and two men, Scottie Johnson and Victor Marks. We used to be more, but…" my voice hitched as Angel backed into me, immediately setting me back into the spinning, twisting dance.

We had to fight a little harder this time to gain leverage. The man watched us with curious eyes.

"Why are you here?" he finally asked.

"We're in need of shelter. Rest too," I said softly. My head was clouding, the loss of blood finally taking over. I felt Angel turn, her hand resting in the small of my back.

"Sir," she said, her tone guarded. "We've had a hard month. We're all weakening with every passing day," she continued. "We're good people. Good in a fight. Loyal. And we know how to go out and get supplies without bringing attention to ourselves." Her arm snaked around her waist, keeping me upright. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, my breathing coming in weak gasps.

"What happened to her?" the man asked, his eyes locking on mine.

"My sister missed the Walker and landed a blade in her arm," Angel said with a shrug. "She wasn't bit." She assured him.

I looked up and what I saw in his eyes was nothing but distrust. I felt my heart sink. This was exactly what we had feared.

"I have three questions for you," he said with a grim expression.

"Okay?" Angel said, her tone guarded.

"I'll have to ask the rest of your group as well…" he let it hang.

"Ask us first," I said softly. I leaned heavily on Angel, who was easily supporting my weight.

"How many Walkers have you killed?" he asked.

Angel and I exchanged a look.

"Over two hundred," we said in unison. "We've traveled on foot for the better leg of our journey. We've been left with no choice."

"How many people have you killed?" he asked.

Angel stiffened. She'd killed three people since the outbreak. The first being her father, the other two, men who had grabbed her sister and threatened the lives of those we traveled with. I, on the other hand, had killed five.

"Three," Angel said. I was surprised. She normally wasn't so willing to give up that kind of information.

"None," I lied.

"Why?" the man asked.

"The first was my father, and because he was struck with the fever. He didn't want to turn. He begged to be killed," Angel said, her voice emotionless. "The second and third were cruel, heartless men who wanted to do unthinkable things to my little sister," she said, her tone turning bitter. "It was them or us."

"Rick, for god's sake, let them in," a new voice growled. I was surprised to see the man wielding the crossbow coming up to the fence.

"Alright," the man, Rick, said dryly. "Where is the rest of your group?"

I turned carefully, glaring through the Walkers, searching for the bright red cloth Scottie always tied to his gun when we had to split up. I couldn't see it through the mass of Walkers. Instead, I did the only thing we ever took as a sure sign the threat wasn't as great as the profit. I pulled away from Angel, even though it meant staggering more than actually standing, pressed my lips together and let loose a high pitch, yet somehow soft whistle.

A moment later, my whistle was met by the sound of a gunshot. I would have jumped had I not seen the flash of red in the treeline. They were being attacked.

"Son of a…" I let the statement hang as Angel and I spun at the same time, our bodies again skin to skin as we weaved and slashed, not caring that we were proving our strengths all in one go. Even weakened by blood loss and exhaustion, our will to protect what little we had less outweighed any true feelings.

"Mackenzie, run!" I heard Scottie's familiar voice echo through the trees. "You have to get up and run!"

"Run to mama, Kenzie, c'mon!" I screamed. The Walkers nearest us whipped around, their course now set on us as we stopped dead center. Behind us was the safety of the prison, to our left and right, Walkers, in front, the only family we had left.

"Split up?" Angel suggested, taking a moment to catch her breath.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Fan out and take out who we can. First one to reach Scottie grabs the kid and makes for the fence."

"Sounds good. What about the supplies?" she nodded.

"Carry what you can," I ordered. Though Scottie was our leader, my insight and ability to think on my feet, a skill you have to master when you're a single mother, even before the world went to shit, made the rest of the group trust my instincts – sometimes even more than their own.

"Can you manage on your lonesome?" Angel asked, giving me a troubled look. "You're bleeding like a stuck pig."

"She'll manage," a new voice said. I spun around, my knife pressed against the throat of the man speaking.

"Easy tiger," the gruff, scrappy man said with a tight smile. "Ain't gon' do you do good to kill me."

"Sorry," I breathed moving away from Angel.

"Aim high, go far," I instructed her. She nodded once and took off, her speed, size and agility working in her advantage.

"If we reach the trees, I can get off the ground," I said as I watched Angel go, giving her a head start.

"Then what'cha waiting for?" the man asked.

"This," I said before wheeling away from him. I aimed my small handgun in the air, took a deep breath, and shot. The loud shot rang clear through the field, echoing off the nearby trees.

I could almost _feel_ Scottie curse my name. I took off towards the trees away from the prison and my group, my lungs throbbing as I ran. I let loose another round, not caring that I was wasting precious ammo. In that moment, my only thought was on my daughter and how I wanted…no, how I _needed_ her to survive this nightmare.

I reached above my head as I neared the trees, my fingers catching a low branch. I kept my injured arm away from the bark as I pulled myself up, my lungs aching, my head spinning. I saw Angel reach the group, her arms scooping Mackenzie off the ground in a moment's time.

I looked behind me and saw the older man struggling with a group of Walkers. He was trying to reload his crossbow, but time wasn't on his side.

Torn between showing loyalty to someone I owe nothing to and saving my family, I pulled out my slingshot and took aim, easily sending a few of the Walkers back to their graves. I didn't have many metal pellets left, but I knew I could melt down some old cans to make more later. We always saved our cans for that very reason.

"C'mon!" I shouted, not daring to move from my spot in the tree. He looked up and gave me a nod before running towards the tree I was in. I leapt from my perch, landing gingerly on another branch. It was an old skill – one I'd acquired when I was around Mackenzie's age. My father took me out hunting and always told me that my sheer size was enough to make me a good hunter, even more than my careful aim and reckless pace.

Once the man was out of harm's way and the Walkers were tripping over each other to get at a fallen bird, I took the time to assess the situation.

"You, follow me," I decided. I stayed in the tree long enough to give him time to reload his crossbow before taking off, my fingers barely supporting my weight as I flew from branch to branch overhead until I was perched carefully above Scottie.

"Scottie, talk to me, bro," I said as I shot my little metal balls at the Walkers he was fighting.

"I can't find Victor," he shouted. "Angel's got Kenzie and Grace though."

"Victor's not too far away," I reassured him. "I saw him a few trees back."

"Got a plan?" Scottie asked.

"Yeah," I nodded. "See the guy with the bow? Follow him, get the girls and go. I'll lead the Walkers back to the wooded area near where Woodbury was set up, you know, where we looted the last of the guns?"

"Alright, be safe," he nodded. Scottie rarely argued when someone had a good plan.

"You too. Remember, keep my kid safe," I shouted.

"Always," he nodded. "Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't play hero. You'll be lucky to make it half a mile, much less the six or seven it's going to take. If you can't keep going, set off the firecrackers and hightail it back to us," he ordered.

"Is that a direct order, Sir?" I joked. Scottie was an ex-Marine.

"Yes ma'am, 'fraid it is," he smiled despite himself.

"Be ready to let my sorry ass through that fence," I snickered before taking off, moving loudly through the trees. The pack of Walkers followed after me, their moans and groans and shuffles making the forest sound so much louder than before.

It didn't take me long to realize that I had overestimated my strength. As Scottie predicted, half a mile into the trek, my body grew weaker than I'd hoped. I couldn't muster up enough strength to propel myself the small distance between the two trees. I leaned against the trunk of the tree I was in, gasping for air, my vision blurring as my arms went limp at my side.

I was all but sure I was going to become Walker chow afterall.

* * *

_A/n - I realize Katie seems a bit, Mary-Sue like right now, but I assure you, that is not the case. Take a moment to imagine a mother, who had fought so hard to keep her daughter alive, stuck in the same situation. I can promise you one thing, and one thing only. Katie is anything but perfect. ;)_

_I love hearing back from my readers, so the more feedback, the quicker I will update. The next chapter will be a little less eventful, but more in-tune to what is going to set the stage for the rest of the story. :)_

_Review my lovelies! It keeps me going!_


	3. Chapter 2 - Insight

**Angel**

I knew Katie better than most. She was strong willed with a heart of gold. Yet she was hard – having had to raise her daughter on her own these last few years taught her to become hard, in order to protect her daughter from the cold, harsh world she was thrown into.

Katie was the mother hen of our group, as cold as she was, she always put the needs of others before her own. When our group fell on harder than usual times the past winter, she went out every single morning to hunt, and when she returned, she cleaned, skinned and cooked the food on her own, before making sure everyone had enough to keep them going. She often times went as long as a week without touching a bite of food. The same went with clothing and medical supplies. She always put others before herself.

But Katie Anderson was no saint. She harbored a dark past of drug abuse, violence and hate towards the world. More times than not, I found myself wondering if it was the end of the world that brought out the kindness in her, or if something snapped long before. You'd never guess by looking at her, that she spent three years in prison when she was only 16.

Katie never openly spoke about her feelings, which left the group to come to their own conclusions as to why the young mother spent so much time out gathering food or supplies, instead of making plans with the group. She rarely came up with a surefire plan, unless it was dangerous. Katie was queen of making dangerous decisions.

Like a few months back when we had been surrounded by Walkers one night while setting up camp in an old, abandoned warehouse. She was the one who suggested going out, guns blazing. Scottie only agreed to the plan because he couldn't come up with a better one himself. We lost six good men that night.

I don't know if it was her rebellious streak, or the way she didn't think of the consequences that attracted me to her so much. Maybe it was just the fact that she had so much charisma or the fact that she loved with her whole heart, even if she didn't tell you it to your face. Maybe it was the fact that we could relate on so many levels, though differed on countless others.

Or maybe I just liked how she never once let fear show. Unless it regarded her daughter. Deep down, I think the only person she truly loved and would die for was that little girl.

Mackenzie was sleeping in my lap as I watched through the chain links of the fence for her mother to return. Daryl, the man with the crossbow, was a few feet off, his face emotionless as he too, watched the treeline for our last member.

"She's gonna come back," I assured him. "I know Katie well enough to know she ain't gon' let no Walker kill her."

"Can't be too sure now a days," the scruffy redneck countered. "Expect the unexpected."

"You talk like you know it better than most," I observed.

"Sure do," he grunted. The conversation died as quickly as it started.

I leaned against the board behind us, letting Mackenzie's warm body inch away the chill seeping into my bones as night began to settle in.

"Where's mommy?" she asked, looking up at me with those sad blue eyes.

"Mommy's coming," I promised her, kissing the top of her head softly.

I didn't know if my response was true or not. Maybe Katie really wasn't going to come back. Maybe she got herself killed after all. But you just don't look at a kid and say their mama might be dead. You just don't. Not even at the end of the world.

* * *

**Katie **

I wasn't sure where I was going or what I was doing. The sun had long since set against the horizon and I knew it was all a matter of time before a herd of hungry Walkers picked up my scent. On any other night, I would have eagerly set a fire and let the warm amber heat my skin. But not that night. That night, I was barely strong enough to stay perched high above the ground.

Blood was still seeping out of my arm, the wound sore and itchy. I knew it was a bad sign. I had one bullet left in my gun, three things of firecrackers and almost all of my metal balls still intact. I was left with nothing else. My plan suddenly seems fruitless.

"Think, Katie, think," I muttered as I forced my eyes open. I had a headache that just wouldn't let up. So much as breathing made it hurt that much worse. I forced myself to stay alert as I braced myself against the tree. The Walkers were fanned out enough that if I really wanted, I could have jumped from my perch to the next tree. Or better, if I had the strength, I could have made a run for it.

Instead, I found myself braiding the firecrackers together, using pieces of bark as flint.

"One chance, Kate, that's all you've got," I told myself. I tossed the firecrackers to the next tree, keeping a firm grip on the other end. I watched as they sored through the sky, landing a good few feet away. I smiled slightly and lit my end with my lighter. The fire took and quickly made its way down the thin string.

I didn't stick around long enough to witness my plan unfold, but the loud cracking and stream of smoke assured me that the plan worked out that far.

I hit the ground running, using the last of my strength to weave my way through the dark, tripping and stumbling as I went. It took a lot longer to reach the clearing, but when I did, I could barely stand, much less breathe.

I was thrilled to see that there were very few Walkers around, but it wasn't as easy as that. Nothing ever was. My knees gave way as the adrenaline wore off, exhaustion and blood loss finally taking control. My last conscious thought was how it killed me to know I was that close, yet still so very far.

* * *

**Scottie**

I watched as Katie's breathing changed for the millionth time that night. Hershel had tried to assure us that she would survive, but deep down, I wasn't as confident as the old vet was. Her fever had spiked again and as much as I didn't want to consider it, facts were facts.

"She has to make it," Grace sobbed into my shoulder as we watched out unspoken leader waste away in front of us.

"She always thought of you as the leader," Angel whispered. "You know this isn't how she intended to end her life."

"She can't die," I said strongly, for the sake of my small group. "Katie's invincible."

"That's stupid talk," Victor snorted. "She's nothing but a little, broken girl."

"She's got more guts than you, you ol' fool!" Angel spat. "For cryin' out loud, she's done things none of us have even considered to survive!"

"Shh," I said gently. Something felt different. Something changed.

"Found me a dog!" Carl, Rick's little boy, cried out. I turned just slightly to see a furry beast burst through the cell door, jumping onto the bed with Katie.

"Shoo, mutt," I shooed. The dog growled at me.

Mackenzie, who had been silent since Daryl, this real rough around the edges hick, carried her mother's limp body into the prison, looked up, her eyes flashing with joy.

"Bessy!" she cried with delight, pulling the dog into her arms. The old dog whined happily, her thick tail wagging. Behind Angel, stood a much smaller, much thinner dog.

"Kenzie, you have two dogs?" I asked carefully. We'd all heard countless stories about Bessy. The old dog was dear to the young family and we all knew how much it killed Katie to lose her a few months back.

"No, but mommy said Bes was gonna be a mama when we saw her last," the little girl explained. "Prolly her puppy."

"I'll be damned," I laughed softly.

"Where'd you find them, Carl?" Angel asked. She was patting the younger dog's head. His tail wagged happily at the attention.

"Outside the fence," a different voice chimed. We all looked up to see Daryl standing in the doorway. "Dog had Kate's name on it, figured it was safe to let 'em in."

"Look!" Grace cried.

Much to my surprise, Katie was stirring. She groaned softly before opening her eyes, a slight gasp escaping her lips as the large sheepdog landed painfully on her chest.

" 'M I dead?" she groaned, her eyes glassy.

"Not in the least!" I exclaimed, my hand clasping down on hers. "Daryl here found your dog."

"Who the fuck is Daryl?" she asked, pushing herself up. I was about to make her lay back down, when I look of pure surprise crossed her face.

"No freaking way!" she yelped. "No freaking way in hell!"

"What?!" I exclaimed, following he gaze.

"Well I'll be a monkey's cousin, if it ain't kid Dixon in the flesh!" she said, her entire face brightening as she looked at the dirty redneck.

"You two know each other?" I asked carefully.

"I don't think so?" Daryl said with a grunt. "Do I?"

"Not exactly," she grinned. She sat up straight and reached for her bag. Grace handed it to her without question, too shocked to even consider it.

"'Less there are two Daryl Dixon's roamin' this world, I'd like to think I just found, oh, how'd that man put it…" she closed her eyes to think. " 'shit kickin', no good, sonovabitch, arrow throwin' baby brother o' mine' Daryl," she grinned.

Daryl looked stunned.

"You know Merle?!"

* * *

_A/n - I'm not too sure about this chapter. I rewrote it half a dozen times, and tried my best to make it flow just right, and hopefully, it came out that way for y'all. Anyway, I wrote it while being sick and half asleep, after a long, looooong night at work, so bear with me._

_Little side fact - I had to have Katie know someone related to someone in Rick's group, and decided her knowing Merle would be perfect. You'll find out how exactly in the next chapter. ;)_

_Let me know what you think. I will warn you all of one thing - if you don't like oc x Daryl, stop reading now. It won't be a sappy love story, but there will be a connection somewhere down the line. That's all I'm giving you. :D_


	4. Chapter 3 - In My Time of Dying

**Angel**

"C'mon Katie, come back to us," I begged. Her body slumped lifelessly against my arm. I felt helpless as I looked to Hershel for answers.

"It's common, don't worry," Hershel tried to assure me, but it did no good. All I could think about was how my gram had the same thing happen before she died. She was in and out of a coma for months, then one day woke up and was chattering away like nothing happened. The next week, she was dead.

Katie jerked in my arms and it all but scared the life outta me. Hershel restrained her as she jerked and shook, her body seizing for a good minute before relaxing.

This happened several more times over the next week. To say the least, the week was a living hell. No matter how you looked at it.

* * *

**Katie**

Rick refused to let my group into their cellblock. I would have been pissed if I hadn't had the same reservation towards them myself. With the exception to Daryl, who made me think of my time back in prison with Merle, the group was nothing but downright awful. Carol, this older, kinder woman, took a shining to Mackenzie, but that was as far as the pleasantries went. I later learned that Grace had to all but beg for them to let the group in the gate in the first place. Daryl had argued their cause, for whatever reason, for which I was grateful.

"Mommy, I'm hungry," Mackenzie whined. We had shared a cold can of beans a few hours prior. I guess I'd been out for a whole 24 hours before those damn dogs woke me up. Bessy was cut up and nothing but a bag of bones, but her pup, who I named Blade, in honor of his jet black fur, was a bit better off. I made a mental note to explain the circle of life to Mackenzie soon, so that Bes could finally go in peace. How that old bitch survived so long was beyond me. Last I'd seen her, she was practically being sucked dry by her unborn pups. How she survived birth, much less raised a pup, was beyond my wildest dream.

"Blade, sit," I told the pup as I stood up, stretching my stiff muscles. My back ached from sleepin' sitting up, but it was better than risking falling into a comfortable slumber. I wasn't sure what Rick and the rest were capable of.

"Mommy!" Mackenzie's whines grew louder.

"For crying out loud, Mackenzie, I know. I know. You're hungry. You're tired. You're cold and just want to go home. Why not tell me something I don't already know?" I snapped, fed up with her constant string of complaints.

"Chill out, Katie," Scottie scolded me.

"Ya know what," I spat, spinning towards him. "I think I might've liked it better out there in the damn forest!"

"None of us like being caged up, Kate, that doesn't give ya a damn right to go spittin' accusations around now," Grace said gently.

I was about to say something when I heard the gate to our small cell clink. I looked towards the doorway, my heart racing. Ever since I learned of the group's less than friendly mannerisms, I'd been of red alert.

"C'mon," Daryl motioned, a small smile playing on his lips. "You look ready to go insane in there."

"No shit," I snorted, grabbing my sling shot off the floor.

"Kate," Scottie warned. Unlike me, he didn't trust anyone here, especially not Daryl.

"Dixon's a good man," I shot back. Scottie looked uneasy, but nodded at my declaration. I sucked at judging people and he knew it. I was either too cautious or too trusting. Never a good thing.

"Blade, c'mon," I called the dog. He happily lopped after me. I turned as Daryl relocked the cell door, his hands hesitantly turning the key.

"You don't agree with Rick," I noted.

"It's not that," he sighed.

"Then what?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Your lot. Y'all don't seem dangerous," he shrugged. I was about to argue that, but decided against it.

We followed Blade out into the prison yard. The young dog rolled in the grass happily, clearly as stir crazy as the rest of us. I smirked as he tripped over his own feet, his oversized paws proving to be an obstacle for him.

"Ya know, your brother, he was a decent guy when he wanted to be," I said carefully. Daryl through me a bewildered look.

"You mind explainin' how you know Merle?" he huffed.

"Me and Merle, we go way back," I chuckled. "We landed ourselves in prison the same day for the same charges," I laughed softly to myself, remembering the night I was arrested for drug possession. It was three years before either of my children were born.

"_Dude, we're gonna get caught" my drug buddy, Mike, argued as I shot the heroin up my vein. I leaned against the trash cans, my eyes shut._

"_Ain't got nothin' better to do," I chuckled. _

"_Katie, c'mon," he pleaded. Normally it was the other way around, but this time, I was so hopped up on dope, nothing could bring me down._

_The blare of sirens couldn't even jerk me from my drug induced oblivion. It wasn't until the next day when the high wore off and the nagging, gut wrenching withdrawal set in that I sobered up enough to realize that I was sitting in a prison cell, all alone except for the gruff, angry man sitting across from me._

"_Got a smoke?" I asked him. _

"_Naw, lil' lady," he snorted._

"_Sonovabitch," I grumbled. I leaned against the stone wall, not really caring about the man or what he was in for. He proceeded to tell me anyway._

"_Got caught with Meth," he muttered, shaking his head. "T'was a real good lot too."_

"_Meth your vice?" I asked him._

_He nodded. "Yours?"_

_I rolled up my sleeve. "Heroin," I muttered._

"_Shit'll kill ya," he said, almost like he cared._

"_So will life," I sighed. _

_Over the next two months we talked a lot. I told him about my family, he told me about his brother. We shared old 'war stories' and exchanged insults as if it were the best game in the world. We sort of bonded over the scare cigarettes I managed to score from guards or inmates and he watched my back out in the yard._

_When I was released on good behavior, I promised to look him up when he got out. Wished him luck with making amends with his brother. _

"_You're a good man, Merle Dixon. Under all that hate and drug induced rage. Don't let no one say otherwise," I said to him as the guard led me out of the cell, into the hot sunlight._

"You sure you were talkin' to my brother?" Daryl snorted. "Ain't nothin' good about him"

"Merle treated me right. Pig 'o a man, but he had a good heart. Or least he tried to," I shrugged.

"You real sure we're talkin' of the same guy?" Daryl asked, his voice hitching.

"Mhm. Mouth of a sailor and sure as fuck smelled like 'un too. But boy, that man had a way of settin' ya in stitches with his nonsense," I chided. I glanced up when I heard the familiar whine of my daughter's high pitched voice.

"But it's too cold to go outside, Scottie!"

"Mackenzie Beth, you come here right on now," I ushered. She ran towards me, throwing herself down into my lap. I laughed softly and pulled her close, wrapping my tattered jacket around her. My arm was in a makeshift sling, so that little movement hurt something fierce.

"Beth wants you to try and get Judy to sleep," she said, looking up at me with those to die for eyes. I smiled and looked over at the young blonde who was carrying a bundle in her arms.

"Hop off my lap, lil' un," I said gently. Mackenzie moved so she was sitting wedged between Daryl and I.

"I tried everything. So did my dad, Carol and Maggie. No one can get 'er to sleep," Beth said with pleading eyes.

"Hand 'er over," I laughed. "Scottie, go get the bottle of Whiskey outta my bag."

"Why?" he asked. We rarely touched the Whiskey. We were saving it for near-death stuff only. It was good when you had a bullet in your leg and even better when you were dying.

"'Cause little baby Jude here is teethin' and I know an old trick to end her suffering," I smiled down at the infant. She fussed in my arms, her wails louder than anything I'd heard in a long time.

"Shh, little one, it's gon' be okay," I said softly.

Scottie returned a few minutes later carrying the bottle in his hands carefully, almost as if he was afraid to drop it. I took it from him with my good hand, the small child resting against my stomach as I opened it and took a swing.

"God, that just warms ya right up," I sighed, my eyes closing as the burning liquid slid down my throat. I poured a little on my hand before sticking my finger in Judy's mouth, mid scream. As soon as the liquor hit her gums she settled right now.

"See? All better, huh Judith?" I asked, smiling as the baby took my pinky finger in her tiny hands.

"Where'd you learn that?" Beth asked, a smile playing on her lips.

"Mackenzie was a fussy baby when she was about Jude's age. Even with mobiles and dolls and teddy bears, she fussed all the time. My grandfather taught the trick to all us kids with our fussy babies," I explained. "Works every time."

Judy snuggled into my chest, her eyes half closed as she suckled on my finger.

"You're a natural," Beth beamed.

"So are you," I looked up at her. "And you don't even have kids."

She smiled at me, her smile so sincere it broke my heart.

"What the fuck?" Rick's harsh voice broke through our moment. I looked in the direction of his voice to find a very angry father running towards me. "Hands off my daughter!"

"Rick," Daryl warned. But it was too late. Judy started wailing all over again.

"Now look what you've done," I scolded him, bouncing the baby in my lap gently. "Hush lil' 'un, no need to cry now."

Rick snatched her off my lap with so much force, for a moment, I wasn't sure if he knew what he was doing.

"Rick!" Scottie objected. He had seen the flash in his eyes too then.

"Rick, calm down," I warned, my voice soft, as if I were talking to a wounded animal.

"Never, and I mean never, come near my family," Rick growled, storming off, the wailing infant tightly gripped in his arms.

"Sorry," Beth said, her eyes sad.

"Don't be, honey, Rick's a troubled man, he'll come 'round," I assured her.

"Don't be so sure," Scottie scoffed.

"Who let you out, anyway?" I asked.

"I did," I was surprised to see Carl appear out of nowhere. "I don't think it's fair that we've been treating your lot like animals, when the Woodbury survivors get to wander as they please."

"Thanks Carl," I said sincerely. "You're a good kid."

He didn't say anything, just nodded once.

"So, how long you reckon we'll be staying?" Scottie asked me, clearly forgetting that Daryl was sitting right next to me. I stole a glance at him, surprised to see my daughter half asleep against his side. He was staring ahead, either day dreaming or lost in his own head.

"I dunno," I admitted. "Why?"

"Me, Victor, and Grace want to move on, sooner rather than later," he informed me.

"You know you have always been free to leave," I said gently. "I won't stop you, though it'd be a shame to lose you all."

"Just don't feel safe here is all. Aren't you still set on finding your brother?" he asked me.

"Not really," I admitted with a sad tone. "There's something about this place, it feels like home, almost."

"That's 'cause you've been arrested before, idiot," he spat. "You gon' come? We're leaving tonight if we can."

"Naw, I'm gon' stay here a while," I shrugged. "Ang leaving too?"

"No, I ain't," a new voice chimed in. I looked behind me to see Angel coming up, Bes limping tiredly at her side. "I like it here too."

"Really?" I asked skeptically. Angel was very close to her sister. It shocked me that she would choose me over her.

"We need to talk," she said, motioning for me to follow. I groaned softly and heaved myself off the cold ground. As soon as I was away from Mackenzie and Daryl, the cold chill hit me. Daryl looked up as I passed, but didn't make a move. Mackenzie subconsciously scooted closer to him. It was actually pretty adorable, if you wanna know the truth. Here, this hard ass redneck, sitting in the autumn chill with a little six year old snuggled up in his lap.

I followed Angel over to the far side of the yard, my daughter still in my sights.

"Grace's been bit," she sighed, her eyes darkening as she spoke the words.

"When?" I asked urgently.

"Two days back, when Rick sent us out to clear the dead away from the fence. She was bit and the fever's setting in, that's why Scottie wants to leave," she explained. She looked up at the sky, her eyes filling with tears she refused to shed. "She doesn't want to turn, but she doesn't want to die either."

"So you're gonna let her go?" I asked carefully.

"She'll be dead by sunrise anyway," she nodded. "Scottie wants to leave as soon as you give him permission to."

"Scottie's the leader, he don't need my permission to do anything," I argued.

"Kate, open your eyes. You're our leader. Always have been. Tell him he can go," she begged.

"Alright."

I walked back over to Scottie and the rest and gave him one, short nod.

"Be safe, brother," I said gently. He nodded and stood, quickly making for the prison. I was sure it was the last time I saw my best friend.

Angel sat next to me as I pulled Mackenzie into my lap, her head lolling as her position shifted.

"Mommy?" she asked sleepily.

"Hmm?" I was watching the sun begin to set.

"Sing that song," she asked.

"I don't sing," I said softly.

"Yeah you do. You did 'fore the outbreak."

"That was a long time ago," I whispered.

"Please? Sing my lullaby," she begged. It made my heart break to hear her sound so young. She hadn't begged to hear me sing in ages.

"Alright," I agreed, only because I was growing tired myself. I shifted her so her legs were across Daryl's lap, making it easier for me to hold her. Daryl didn't even flinch.

While I was remembering the lyrics, I found myself wondering why Daryl suddenly seemed so young, so gentle. It was almost as if –

Then I saw him. Standing in the distance, his eyes as bright as they had been years ago. My dead son looked at me, a sad smile playing on his lips.

"Mom, you aren't gonna die today," he assured me.

His words made no sense. Of course I wasn't going to die today. But he was dead. Why was I seeing him.

Behind him stood a woman I could only place because she looked like her son. It was Carl's dead mother. She looked at me with warm brown eyes.

"Katie, you've got to wake up. You've got to."

* * *

**Angel**

"Katie, you've got to wake up. You've got to," I begged for the millionth time as her body jerked slightly. She was growing weaker. I could tell.

She'd been out for a whole week. Her fever broke only an hour before her heart started skipping beats according to Hershel. Scottie had left along with Victor and Grace the day before, for whatever reason. I guess I'd never really know. I had a hunch though.

Unlike them, I was loyal. Katie was as good as a sister to me. I knew why Grace left – she'd been bitten. She made one stupid mistake and went and got herself bit. Rick said we had to leave or he'd kill her. It was only because Daryl argued our case that Rick allowed me to stay with Katie.

"She's been mumbling for a while now," Hershel assured me. "She'll come to."

"We thought that last time," I sighed, looking at the puppy that was lying beside me. The last coherent thing Katie said was 'Yeah, I knew Merle real good.' Then she done went and slipped away from us again.

"You know, she's tougher than she looks," Hershel said gently. "I can feel it in my bones."

"Yeah well, she's gonna be pissed when she finds out what happened," I sighed.

"I'm sorry about your sister," he said sadly.

"Yeah well, she had it comin'. It's 'cause of her Katie might die," I growled. I would have killed Grace, had Scottie not begged me not to. And Grace was my own flesh and blood.

I grew overly aware of someone standing behind me. I turned and saw Daryl leaning against the cell doorway.

"What?" I asked. He said nothing, just stared at Katie, who was beginning to stir a little more.

"Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind," Katie mumbled.

"Her daughter's lullaby," I smiled in spite of myself. "She used to sing it when Kenzie was still young."

The puppy, who we deemed Scout, since he had a nose for Walkers, perked up, his eyes locked on Katie.

A moment later, I saw the most beautiful thing I'd seen in just about my entire life. Katie's eyes opened, and for a single moment, I saw nothing but love, laughter and hope shining deeply in her sea green eyes.

"Yeah," she whispered, her eyes training on Daryl. "I knew Merle real good."

* * *

_A/n - This was the chapter that sparked the story in the first place. Originally, this was going to be a one-shot, a simple "she was bit, this is what went through her mind" sort of thing. Instead, I tailored it to fit this story instead. _

_I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!_

_To clear one thing up - Yes, Katie really believed she was "awake" for the events from her point of view. It won't be until the next chapter that she realizes she was actually in a very dangerous coma like state. _

_Reviews are always welcomed! _


	5. Chapter 4 - Tastes like Chicken

Angel took the next few hours to fill me in on what happened while I was under. Apparently infection ended up setting into the cut, along with exhaustion, starvation and just general stress, which led to the fever and the realistically vivid dream. I was stunned that it had actually had bits of the real world tucked into it.

I was still extremely weak and the minor task of sitting upright long enough to pull a clean shirt over my head proved almost impossible. With her help, I managed to get changed, and with her support, I was able to leave the cell for the first time since Daryl carried me in.

"Mackenzie's with Beth and Carol. She's taken a shining to those two," she explained as she led me into the common room of Cell Block C. Daryl watched me from his perch on the stairs as the small dog, deemed Scout by my group, stood at my other side protectively.

"What happened to Bes?" I asked tiredly. The small distance we'd crossed wore me out a lot more than I imagined. Angel carefully sat me on the floor before sighing.

"Bes didn't make it through the first night. I honestly think that dog only lived so long 'cause she knew the pup needed you," she shrugged.

"Probably," I nodded. My head ached, but it didn't hurt any worse than a head cold would.

"Think you can keep something down if you try?" she asked worriedly. I was overly aware of how my bones stuck out. Even just sitting on the concrete floor, my back pressed against the wall, was painful.

"Dunno," I shrugged. My stomach was doing flips. "Prolly not."

"You'll have to eat eventually," she said softly.

"I know," I muttered.

"I'm not trying to be overbearing or nothing…"

"Ang, I really appreciate your concern, but let me absorb everything for a few minutes, okay?" I asked. She nodded once before hurrying off to either get some air or find Hershel. I wasn't too concerned. Angel was real good about accepting my decisions. That was why we were friends to begin with.

I really didn't want to move, but the floor wasn't helping my achy body any, so with the young dog at one side, using the wall as leverage, I managed to get to my feet. My injured arm was wrapped in a thick bandage and set in a makeshift sling, so it was awkward trying to keep myself upright, but I managed. The ground swayed beneath my feet, but eventually, I found my footing well enough to make my way over to the gate of the cell block.

"You heading outside already?" Rick, the leader of the group, asked.

"Need some fresh air," I muttered. In reality, I just needed to clear my head. I felt like shit, but it wasn't going to stop me from getting my bearings back.

"I'll go with 'er," Daryl offered. I was about to object, but something about the look Rick gave me made me stop.

"Please?" I asked. Rick sighed and unlocked the door, letting my hobble past.

It took me ten times longer to make my way outside than it would have normally. Several times I had to stop and lean against the wall, just to keep from falling over. I knew the headache was from starvation and the weakness from malnutrition. It wouldn't be long before my body shut down completely.

When we reached the prison yard, I didn't really have anything to brace myself against anymore, so after walking a few tiny steps, I gave up and sat down, letting the cool grass ease some of the ache from my muscles.

"You look like death," a familiar voice joked. I looked up to see Angel coming towards me. "Rick had to send a babysitter, huh?"

"He offered," I shrugged. I pulled my knees to my chest, letting my head rest on top of them.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, sitting beside me. The look of concern on her face troubled me.

"Just not feelin' top notch," I shrugged. "It'll pass."

"You went through hell, Kate," she reminded me.

"So? So has everyone else," I sighed. "How much did I miss while I was out?"

"Not much," she shrugged. "Rick spent the first night asking us a million questions, while Hershel tended to you. Tell you one thing, you're lucky Daryl found you – Hershel said another hour and you'd have bled to death."

"Yeah," I nodded. I looked at Daryl who was standing a bit away. "Thanks for that, Daryl," I called softly.

He didn't say anything, just grunted in response. I smiled despite myself. Daryl really was the quiet brother. Back in prison, Merle never shut up.

"Wanna try and eat something?" Angel practically begged. I sighed and watched as she pulled a little bundle out of her bag. It looked like roasted rabbit. "Daryl caught it, I promise, it's safe," she assured me. She knew I was hesitant about eating anything that could have been infected.

"Ehh," I grimaced.

"Will you eat it if I tell you what it is?" she asked, her eyes pleading.

"What is it?"

"Squirrel."

"What?" I asked, bile slowly creeping up my throat. I fought back a gag before turning away from the meat.

"It tastes like chicken," she assured me. Angel had been a vegetarian before the world went to shit. "It's real good."

"I'll pass," I muttered. Scout looked at the piece of meat eagerly. "Let the dog have it."

"No way," she laughed, picking at the meat. She took a bite and smiled as if it were a grade A steak. "It's too good for dog food."

My stomach churned at the sight. I pressed my eyes shut, fighting the nausea.

"You have to eat," a different voice scolded. I forced my eyes open to see Hershel coming towards us. "Even just a little. You need to build up your strength."

I sighed. I didn't have the strength to argue anymore. Angel looked victorious as she handed me a piece of the meat. I toyed with it a little before taking a hesitant bite. She was right, it did taste like chicken. I chewed it slowly, my stomach protesting as I choked it down. I groaned as my stomach did flips. I pressed my head into my knees, fighting to keep the tiny piece of meat down.

"Easy," Angel cooed. I felt her press a bottle of water into my hand. "Small sips."

I didn't even attempt to drink. I leaned heavily against her, my entire body seeming to give up.

I vaguely heard Hershel tell her that it was going to take my body some time to adjust. Especially after living on damn near nothing for the better part of two years.


	6. Chapter 5 - Scarlet Fever

It took almost a month for me to fully recover from my injuries. Even though my arm was no longer in a sling, it was stiff and ached every time I tried to really put it to use. So I had adjusted to using only one arm. A task I never wanted to deal with.

I was watching the Walkers swarm around the west fence, my eyes half closed from exhaustion. It had been a busy day. With winter fast approaching, there was a lot that had to get done. Glenn, Michonne, Rick and I had made a run into town to gather as many supplies as we could. At the time, no one questioned Daryl's lack of a presence, but as I was sitting against the stone wall, my eyes locked on the fence outside, I found myself wondering what was going on.

That whole week, something seemed off in C block. No one said anything, but it could be felt. The Woodbury survivors had been whispering about it as I made my rounds that afternoon, handing out blankets and helping some of the women round up the children for the night.

Scout let out a low growl beside me, his ears perked as he sniffed the air. A cool late autumn breeze had set in. I was wrapped in a blanket, my thin frame still not ready for the winter weather. Even in Georgia, the weather could get fairly cold.

"Easy boy," I coaxed as I rubbed behind his ears. He growled again, this time getting to his feet. I got to my knees, listening as the sound of footsteps quickly approaching grew louder.

"Easy," I whispered to the dog as I leveled my machete in my hand. Whoever it was, it was definitely human. Walkers didn't run. I held my stance as the door swung open, clanging loudly against the wall.

"Katie, come quick," Glenn's troubled tone came. Though it was dark, I could see concern etched into his features. "It's Mackenzie."

I didn't wait for him as I threw down the machete, Scout at my side as we tore through the prison halls, reaching C block in record time. As I was let through the gate, I could vaguely make out the sound of someone coughing.

"Hold up," Glenn gasped, nearly smacking face first into my back. I turned so I was facing him. I must've looked crazy, 'cause he took a step back. "She's got a fever."

I didn't wait to hear what he said next. I pushed Carol out of the way, nearly knocking Hershel off his feet as I kneeled on the ground next to the bed my daughter was laying on.

"Mommy," she moaned, her face paler than the sheet she laid on.

"I'm here, honey," I said softly. I stroked her hair softly. "I'm here."

"The fever started an hour ago," Hershel informed me. "How long has she been coughing like this?"

I looked at Angel. I had been so preoccupied with helping the group that I barely saw my daughter most days. She closed her eyes as she tried to think back.

"About a week now," she said softly. "I'm sorry Kate, I thought it was just a cold."

"It's okay," I said softly. I brushed her hair out of her face as I planted a kiss on her head. "Kenzie, tell mama what's wrong," I said gently.

"My throat," she croaked. I smiled sadly as I traced my hand down her neck carefully. Her lymph nodes were swollen. I pulled her shirt away, revealing an angry rash across her chest.

"Shit," I muttered. I knew that rash all too well. "Move Judith to another cell," I said softly.

"Why?" Rick's deep voice demanded.

"She's got Scarlet," I sighed. "Anyone under 6 is at risk."

"It's highly contagious," Hershel agreed.

"What about the rest of us?" Beth asked.

"It's more common in kids. My granddad used to tell us it was so rare for an adult to get it, he'd never seen a case in anyone over 10 in the 56 years he practiced medicine," I explained.

"I didn't know your grandfather was a doctor," Hershel said, interested.

"He was an old family doc, nothing special. He lost two daughters to the fever back in the 70's," I sighed. "I'm going to have to find a hospital," I added.

"What?" Daryl asked, his voice hitching. He stifled a cough before continuing. "There ain't no point."

"I'm going to need antibiotics, Daryl," I said coolly. "Besides, it wouldn't hurt to get our hands on some modern medicine. That cough o' yours hasn't gone away yet."

"M'fine," he retorted.

"Uh-huh, and the sky's purple," I said with a sad smile. "Winter's setting in. Colds are gon' spread like wildfire if we aren't careful."

"Makes me wonder…" Hershel sighed.

"What does?" I asked softly.

"Patrick got sick right 'fore he turned," he reminded me. They'd lost a lot of good people a few weeks before my group stumbled into their lives. From what I had gathered, a boy, Patrick, had gotten sick and turned. He wound up taking out a lot of the Woodbury survivors.

"Scarlet Fever's treatable," I said softly. "My son had it when he was younger."

"You also had doctors back then," he reminded me gently.

"I know what to do," I argued. "I've been down this road before. 'Sides, ain't gon' just give up on her."

"Mommy," my daughter groaned. She looked at me with sick, sad eyes. "Mommy, m'I gon' die?"

"No, honey," I said softly. I kissed her hot forehead. "You're gon' be just fine."

I rubbed her arm softly before turning away from her, my heart breaking into a million tiny pieces. I knew it wasn't good. Of all the illnesses she could have caught, Scarlet Fever was the last I had hoped for. I was prepared for almost anything, but not that. Not a fever that claimed so many lives in the past. Not a fever that was so similar, so dangerously similar to the fever brought on by a bite.

I walked out of Cell Block C, my heart in shreds as I looked at my best friend and gave a feeble nod.

"One week," I said softly. "If I'm gone any longer than that, don't come after me."

"You know I will," she said softly, pulling me into a hug. "Where're you headed?"

"Remember that little place outside of Atlanta? There was a hospital back there and Scottie was all 'it's not safe' but I'm wonder…" I started but Angel but me off.

"No way. First off, Atlanta's too far. Secondly, it's overrun. You'd have to cut through Atlanta to get to the town, and god only knows what lies past it," she shook her head. "Try a bit south of here though. I lived down in Tifton for most of my life. There's a few hospitals in between here and there and it's only what, like 2, maybe 3 hours away if you take one of the cars?"

"Tifton was one of the first towns to go under," I reminded her. That was how we met up with her and her sister in the first place. "What makes you think it's any different now?"

"The first to go down were the first to leave," she reminded me. She had been chased from her home a week before the outbreak spread north.

I nodded as I thought about it. Then I remembered that it wasn't really fair of me to ask to burn a day's worth of gas getting there and back.

"I'll see if Rick'll let me use one of the horses," I thought out loud.

"Absolutely not," Hershel said, coming over to us, his prosthetic leg thumping loudly against the floor. "It's too dangerous."

"Michonne does it all the time," I pointed out.

"Michonne also has both her arms."

"So do I!" I almost screamed. "I'll be fine. And it's better than wasting gas," I argued.

"She has a point, dad," Maggie, his oldest daughter, said softly. "Besides, she'd be safer on a horse than on foot."

"And if she needs to stop and sleep?" he argued.

"I won't," I said quickly. "I wouldn't even consider it under these circumstances."

There was nothing more Hershel could say. In under an hour, it was set. Angel agreed not to come after me, but she didn't like it. She said if I was gone more than three days, she was sending someone out to find me. Or find supplies. Whichever came first. I agreed to that as I pulled her in for a quick hug before mounting the young horse, leaving the comforts of the prison yard and trading them for the insanity of the real world.

I stole one last glance at the prison before kicking the horse into a steady gallop, his hooves kicking up dust as he flew across the open land. Deep in my heart, I knew it was a futile effort. Scarlet Fever wasn't easy to treat and somehow, I knew it wasn't going to end well for my precious daughter. I couldn't have been more accurate.


	7. Chapter 6 - Death's a'Knockin'

I wasn't a horse person. Sure, I grew up in the country, surrounded by farms and horses and such, but I'd never been on the back of a horse in my entire life. The proved even more apparent as we slowed our pace, my entire body aching from sure effort.

"Whoa," I said softly to the beast. Scout had managed to keep up with us just fine, despite the horse's fast pace. The young dog was running beside us, his ears perked forwards. I was tired. There was no denying that this plan hadn't been my brightest. We were still in the woods. My sense of direction was completely shot.

"Shoulda brought a map," I muttered as I pulled the horse to a complete stop, my hands shaking from gripping the reins for dear life. "Don' went an' got myself lost again."

Had I been on the road, I'd know where I was going. I could drive through Georgia blind folded. But my bright ass had to decide to take to the trees. I surveyed the area, my heart sinking as realization really sank in. I really _was_ lost.

An idea crossed my mind. I'd remembered the pack a bright red shirt, so if I was bit, the others would know because I'd tie the shirt to Scout's neck and send him back to the prison. I also packed a dull blue shirt. I tore the blue shirt from my bag and quickly tore it into little shreds. I tied one of the shreds to the horse's halter before tying another to a neighboring branch. This way if I started going in circles, I'd know right away.

By the time the horse's hooves hit pavement, the sun was beginning to set. I didn't like the idea of riding in the dark, but I didn't want to spend the night out in the open either. So I went with the original plan and kicked the horse into a gallop, Scout following close behind.

By the time we neared Tifton, I was physically exhausted. I could barely stay upright, much less ward off the Walkers that had caught our scent. Thankfully, Scout was not afraid of them and had no problem tripping them up, chasing them off, or letting them take swipes and nips at him. The horse, on the other hand, wasn't as confident. After almost an hour of dodging Walkers, he gave up. He neighed angrily and reared up, throwing me off his back. I groaned and landed painfully on the pavement. The world went black before I had a chance to react.

* * *

**Angel**

"It's been two weeks," I said nervously. I was pacing back and forth, racking my brain for a plan.

"She's going to be so heartbroken when she gets back," Carol said sadly. After trying our hardest, Mackenzie had died in her sleep after her fever spiked for the millionth time. It had come down to one of the Woodbury survivors to put her down. None of us could. We couldn't live with that kind of guilt.

"She's prolly dead by now," Carl said with a shake of his head.

"She'd've sent Scout back by now," I argued. "And that little beast woulda came straight here, no matter how far off they got."

"What about Daryl? He's been out there a week now," Carol said worriedly.

I sighed as I sat down against the cold, concrete floor.

Daryl had taken off after the 6th night. He'd been worried from day one, but after Mackenzie turned, he felt it was his duty to find her. Rick begged him not to go off, we all had, but he did anyway. He was a stubborn man, and I knew if anyone could bring my best friend – my sister – home it was him.

The sound of a dog barking caused us all to jump to our feet and hurry down the corridor leading outside. At the fence, Scout was barking up a storm, his claws digging into the ground as he quickly wiggled under the gate.

"Easy boy," I said to the dog as he started jumping up on Rick, barking loudly. I looked through the fence, my eyes training on the path he had taken back.

"Rick, look!" I gasped.

* * *

**Katie**

I didn't know how long I was out. When I woke up, the sun was burning down on me, the ground covered in a thin layer of snow. Scout looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Maybe he hadn't. It didn't take me long to realize I was very close to the hospital now.

I mounted the horse with shaky legs, kicking him into a slow canter through the town. When we reached the hospital, I was pleasantly surprised to see more dead on the ground than surrounding us.

I look down the small herd with little trouble, despite the ache in my head. By the double vision I was suffering from, I safely assumed I had a concussion.

"Keep it together, Katie," I scolded myself as I kicked open the hospital doors. Scout followed me inside as I made my way down the long, quiet corridor, grabbing small items to shove in my bag along the way.

I managed to come across a battery operated ultrasound machine, several clean packs of needles, countless bandages, and eventually, even Saline. It took longer to find the antibiotics I needed, but when I found the pharmacy, I was surprised to see it mostly intact. I shoved bits and pieces into my bag before the dizziness finally caused me to slump to the floor.

"I'm gon' die here, Scout," I said to the dog. My eyes shut, heavy from exhaustion. I didn't stir for a long time.

XX

I woke later in the week. I only knew time had passed because Scout was sitting in front of me, a dead cat in his mouth. He was chomping away at the meat intently until he noticed I was awake.

"Hey boy," I muttered as I pulled myself off the floor. My back ached from sitting for so long and my head throbbed like no tomorrow. I ignored the pain as I slowly stumbled down the hall, barely making it outside before my stomach made a sudden flip, causing me to fall to my knees groaning.

It took all my strength to reach the horse and get on his back. Once settled, I looked at Scout and told him to lead the way home. I was too weak to sit, so I settled with leaning forward, my head pressed into the horse's thick, matted mane.

We barely made it out of Tifton before stumbling upon a very unlikely, yet very welcomed presence. It was early in the morning when we crossed paths with Daryl, only, I hadn't been expecting to find him, much less like he was.

He was lying curled in a tight ball in the middle of the street. As we neared him, he didn't even flinch. Scout ran over to him, barking softly as he nipped at his arms and face. Still no response.

I groaned as I heaved myself off the horse's back, stumbling towards Daryl with no idea what I was going to find. I was surprised to see him still alive.

"You got'a wake up Daryl," I coaxed as I knelt beside him, shaking his shoulder. "C'mon now."

All I got in return was a harsh, ugly cough. I sighed and rolled him over. His face was slicked with sweat despite the cold wind. I wiped my hand across his face, surprised to find him burning up.

"Good god," I whispered. I quickly searched for the bite that would explain the fever but found none. When I was sure it was safe to move him, I tried my hardest to get him over to the horse with no luck. I fell to the ground, at a loss.

Then the most amazing thing happened. The horse came over to us, leaned down to our level and tossed his head, almost as if trying to tell me what to do. I looked at my options and decided the only way we were getting back alive was on the horse's back. So I used all my strength to get Daryl onto the horse's broad back before climbing up after him. The horse stood slowly, like he knew we were too out of it to hold on, and we slowly made our way down the body scattered street.

* * *

**Angel**

"Is that Katie?" Carol cried, rushing to my side. Scout had wiggled back under the fence and was now running beside the horse, barking softly.

"Has ta be," I nodded. Michonne and I ran to the gate, opening it carefully as the horse, followed by Scout, ran through.

"Oh my god," I whispered at the sight on the horse's back.


	8. Chapter 7 - Knockin' on Heaven's Door

_My brother, Jacob, picked me up outside the prison gates. All I had with me was a small bag containing my lighter, my cigarettes and the messy, torn notebook I always carried along. When he saw me, his jaw hit the floor._

"_Who did this to you?" he hollered. Jacob was always hollering at someone. This time, he was referring to my blackened eye._

"_It's nothing Jake," I said carelessly as I climbed onto the back of his bike. I was surprised be brought the bike instead of my old Camaro. _

"_Who did this?" he asked again._

"_My cellmate, if you must know," I spat. Merle and I had gotten into it the night before and he hauled off and punched me, right in the eye. It wasn't a big deal. I was used to being roughed up. It came with the territory._

"_This is about ma, ain't it?" he scoffed. Our mother had died two years prior. A month later I was waking up in a hospital bed, having overdosed on Heroin. _

"_This has nothing to do with mom!" I snapped._

"_Katie, you know she'd disapprove of you runnin' 'round getting doped up and arrested and junk. 'Specially lettin' men beat up on ya," Jake sighed. Jake was three years older than me, but he was a loser. He didn't have any street sense and wasn't book smart. Dumb as a doornail my daddy would say. Him an' Jake never saw eye to eye._

"_Mom's dead," I shot back. Jake stiffened at my outburst. He knew I was right. Mom was good and dead and there was no bringing her back._

"_Heroin'll kill ya," he said softly._

"_So will livin'," I argued._

"_You're wrong…"_

_xxx_

"_Eleven years sober," I said proudly as I kissed Blake, my husband, tenderly. _

"_I'm so proud of you," he said in a gentle, nurturing tone._

"_As am I," I smiled up at him. His blue eyes shined brightly against the hue of the setting sun. _

"_Happy anniversary," he whispered._

"_Happy anniversary," I chorused. _

"_You never did tell me how you got that scar," he murmured as he stroked the small scar under my eye. _

"_It's a long story, Blake," I said softly._

"_We've got time," he murmured._

_That was a week before the outbreak._

* * *

**Angel**

Katie moaned in her coma like state for the millionth time. I felt my heart break into a million pieces as I watched her toss and turn, my mind failing to think of a way to comfort her. It'd been a couple days since she came galloping in on the back of that mangy stallion with Daryl strapped to the saddle. I couldn't even bring myself to wonder what had happened out there.

Hershel was convinced she'd wake up. He was always the optimistic type. Rick wasn't taking any chances. Her right arm was handcuffed to the bedrail. She'd love that when she woke up.

She had to wake up.

Daryl's fever wasn't going down no matter what we tried. His leg, which Hershel assumed he cut open when he fell, was still bleeding. It was like his blood just wouldn't clot. Hershel and Rick had talked about doing a blood transfusion to try and save him, but no one knew his blood type. And no one was O-. No one other than Katie.

But god, Katie was so weak.

"If she wakes up, you know she'll do it," Rick said softly as he walked into the cell, leaning against the far wall. "She has a thing for Daryl."

"She'll die if she does," I countered. "Rick, she's so weak right now…"

"Hershel thinks it's just a concussion," Rick argued.

"Nothing is _just_ anymore, Rick," I said softly. "Patrick _just_ had the flu. Mackenzie _just_ had Scarlet Fever. Daryl _just_ collapsed from exhaustion. Two of the four already died, others too," I said. My hand was linked in Katie's left hand. I felt her fingers twitch under my touch.

"Kate?" I called softly. I heard her moan again. This time, she began to stir.

"Careful, Ang," Rick said softly. I don't know why he was suddenly on my side. A week ago, he was ready to kill me.

"Merle…stop…" she groaned. Rick and I shared a concerned voice.

* * *

"_Get up you dumb bitch!" Merle's cold, cruel tone rang like a dinner bell in our lonely, cold cell. He kicked me in the ribs, causing me to groan loudly._

"_Merle…stop!" I pleaded. _

"_Get up!" he roared. "Get up! You have to get up!"_

_I groaned and rolled away from him, my back colliding with the cold, concrete wall. _

"_Go away, Merle," I gasped, my coursing through my body._

"_You have to get up," this time the voice was different. This voice was one I'd never forget. It belonged to my mother._

"_Mom?" I groaned._

"_Katie Lyn, you have to get up," she soothed. "You have to wake up."_

"_You have to wake up," the chant continued. "You have to save him."_

_Another swift kick to the ribs sent me to my knees. _

"_You have to save my baby brother! He's gon' die if you don't!" Merle's voice screamed._

"_Mommy, you have to wake up."_

_That voice…why was that voice here?_

"_Mackenzie?" I whispered._

"_Mommy, it's okay. I'm with daddy and Ryan now. I'm okay. I like it here," she whispered. "Wake up. Wake up mommy."_

I felt a heavy weight in my chest. I coughed bitterly, my body jerking upright. My right arm held me back. Panic rose in my chest. What the hell?

"Easy, Katie, breathe," a familiar voice soothed. I turned my head and saw Angel at my side. She slid a bucket under my chin as I dry heaved violently. I felt my right arm loosen. Angel kept her arm behind me, supporting my weight.

"Breathe, Katie, easy now," she said softly, her voice almost angelic after Merle's angry outburst.

I tried to catch my breath but it was hopeless. Instead, I forced out a single word.

"Daryl?"

* * *

**One week later**

"Take as much blood as he needs," I said for the 3rd time that week. Hershel was taking my vitals while Angel paced back and forth in front of me. We had done a grand total of three transfusions since I woke up. Each time left me feeling weaker and weaker, but we could see Daryl growing stronger every day.

"His blood's starting to clot again," Hershel muttered, glancing at our broke friend.

"He's strong," I nodded slightly, fighting against the dizziness that was beginning to become part of my everyday life. "He'll wake up any day now."

"Don't be so sure," Angel said with a sad shake of her head. "We thought the same thing with-,"

"Don't," Rick said softly. He was standing by the doorway, a look of concern on his face. Since I woke up to find not only my daughter being dead, but Daryl being extremely sick, Rick had taken extra precautions to avoid making me upset.

"It's okay," I said softly. Hershel took another pint of blood before telling me to lie down. Angel helped me lean back against the wall, her arm behind me for support.

"You think it's gonna work?" she asked Hershel who was carefully sticking the needle in Daryl's vein.

"It's gotten him this far," I spoke up. "I trust Hershel."

"But it still might not work," Hershel said softly. "Daryl was practically dead when you two came through those gates."

"But he wasn't, not yet," I pushed.

"True," Angel said softly, seeing the fear cross my face. "Daryl's a fighter, just like that hard-headed brother of his."

"Exactly," I nodded, letting my eyes close against the dizziness.

"Hey, Kate, stay with us now," Rick's rough voice rang. I felt someone press something against my forehead, but I was too foggy to comprehend what it was. "Talk to me," he begged.

"When…when I saw 'im lying there…" I murmured. Every word felt like a huge effort. "My firs...my first thought was he was dead…" I felt heavy, like the entire world was crashing down around me. "The…that damn horse…ya know what….what he did?" Why did I feel so weak this time? Last time I was fine… "He came up and kneel…kneeled down so…so we could…get…" I felt sick. I groaned softly, my head falling forward.

"Hershel!" Rick's panicked cry chimed. I felt someone put something on my lap. Just barely.

I gagged, my stomach emptying the contents of my already empty stomach.

"Breath, Katie," Angel said softly. I barely registered her words. "Breathe."

I gagged again. Every inch of my body ached.

"No," I moaned. I felt heavy, like I was being drowned. I gagged again, this time choking on my own spit. The coughing hurt. It made everything hurt. I couldn't force my eyes open.

"She's going into shock," Hershel said in a low tone.

I coughed and coughed, unable to catch my breath. Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt?

* * *

**Angel**

Her body went limp against mine. It took all my strength not to burst into tears. I'd been against her giving blood for the last week. She just grew weaker and weaker. It broke my heart. Now this?

"Katie, come back to me," I whispered. I felt like I was losing my best friend. I put my hand against her face, willing her back to me.

"Get her lying down," Hershel ordered. With Rick's help, we managed to get her lying down, her head rested in my lap. She shivered violently, her pale face twisted in a look of pain.

"Hershel," I said, looking up at the elderly man.

"I…" he couldn't find words to say what he was thinking, but it was written all over his face. He hadn't considered how weak she was. He had been so wrapped up in saving Daryl, Daryl who was the provider of the group, who had saved so many lives, who without knowing it, had saved more people than he'd ever really realize, that he had forgotten to consider Katie's wellbeing. Just because she was willing to donate blood didn't mean she was physically ready to.

"If she dies…" I looked up at him, tears in my eyes.

"She won't," Rick reassured me. "She'll pull through this, just like everything else."

"And if she doesn't?" I growled.

"Then we'll deal."

His words hit me like a ton of bricks. He really didn't care about her. All he cared about was saving that stupid redneck. That stupid man that could have gotten my best friend killed.

"You're a monster, Rick Grimes. A coldblooded monster," I spat with pure disgust. Katie twitched on my lap. I looked down at her and saw just how weak she really was. She looked so frail. So breakable. "If she dies, it's your head I'll be after," I growled.


	9. Chapter 8 - Prison Break

"You need to take it slow, son," Hershel's voice echoed from the cell next to mine. I smiled to myself as I pulled the thick deer hide blanket around my thin frame. I still didn't know where Rick got it, but I was grateful for it. Over the last two weeks, it had become a safety net of a sort.

With Angel's help, I managed to stand and take a few shaky steps. That how it had been since the last round of blood transfusions two weeks prior. Angel made it so Hershel wasn't to so much as stick a needle in me, much less draw blood. I was still weak, weaker than I'd ever been, but with her help, I was mobile at least.

"Easy, Kate, slow steps," she coaxed.

"I'm not broken, Ang, just weak," I spat.

Angel just smiled as we exited my cell, making for the next one.

"I'm sick, not dead," Daryl's rough southern drawl chimed.

"Katie almost died to save you, Daryl, the least you could do is make use of that and rest!" Hershel argued.

"Can only lead a horse to water, can't make 'im drink," I laughed as I pushed the thin blanket away from the doorway. "Welcome back, Daryl," I added.

He grunted in response.

"Hey now, don't be a prick," I joked as I staggered into the room. Angel caught me before I could fall on my face.

"Kate, slow down," she muttered as she let me lean against her. I sighed and did as I was told.

"How're you?" I asked Daryl.

"Fine," he said, looking up at me with those to die for blue eyes.

"Uh-huh, you're as pale as them there walkers," I laughed.

"So're you," he shot back. We both smiled then.

"Rick's pissed at you," Angel informed me as she helped me sit down on the floor. I leaned against the cool stone, grateful for something to lean against.

"Uh-huh, 'course he is," I tutted.

"He's only angry because he worries," Hershel piped up.

"No. He's angry because the blood bank ran dry!" Angel growled.

"Stop," I grumbled. "Rick has every reason to be angry. Fuck, I was born to save lives," I muttered.

"That isn't true," Angel said quickly.

"No, it is," I said with a sigh.

"Kate," Daryl said gently.

"No, you aren't getting it!" I snapped, anger boiling in my veins. "I'm a donor baby!"

"What?" Angel gasped.

"You mean…" Hershel blinked, amazed.

"Yeah, Hershel. My parents only had me so I could be of use to their son!" I spat. I closed my eyes. God, I had a raging headache.

"You never told me that," Angel said softly.

"Never came up," I growled. "Jacob needed a bone marrow transplant. He was dying," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. "My parents…they did everything they could for him. When they heard about donor babies, or spare part babies, they decided to try. Naturally, I was a match. Because of my birth, he survived," I looked up at them, the tears spilling over. "Six years later, he got a really awful infection. Blood poisoning and before we knew it, we were back at square one. So my parents consented to a partial liver transplant, countless transfusions, the works," I sucked in a shaking breath. "Due to all that, I wound up anemic. Have been for the better part of two decades now," I added. "That's why I can't just bounce back like anyone else. But I'm a donor baby. I was born to save lives."

"If we'd know you were anemic…" Hershel said, his eyes sad.

"Don't." I whispered. "Had you known, can you honestly tell me you'd have let me go through with it? I made the decision, Hershel. I did. Not a doctor, not my parents, not my brother. Me. I made that decision. I choose to risk my life for Daryl."

"Why?" I looked up. Daryl was giving me a soft, yet confused look. His southern tone almost broke my heart. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because I promised Merle!" I cried. Angel wrapped her arm around me, shushing softly, her cheek pressed into the top of my head.

"You didn't need to keep that promise, Katie," she said softly so only I could hear her. "You owe that man nothing."

"I know," I said, pushing her away. "But first, I keep my word, and second, Merle's the reason I'm alive today."

Everyone fell silent. My revelation stunned the trio. No one had expected me to utter that statement. No one knew. No one, that is, other than my journal.

* * *

_Day 68_

_God, I hate it here. Merle's the biggest prick to walk god's green earth. He's always ranting and raving about one thing or another. Sonovabitch, that one. Should'a let Marti kill 'im when I had the chance._

_Naw, I don't mean that. Merle had my back out there. God, that riot, boy it got messy._

_So I'm sittin' here, hooked to Morphine and lemme tell ya, it feels great. Soaring higher than a kite right now. Sure am. Haven't felt this good since that night._

_Might try 'an score some dope off one of my boys in the lot once this leg heals. What's a bj for a nice fix?_

_Fuck. They'll throwing me back in with bitching beauty. This ought to be fun. A real walk in the park._

_So I managed to score some dope of Marti. Cost'd me a lot more than a bj, but hey, it's all the price you pay for a little snow, right? Merle's 'bout to break mah neck, but boy-ee, I feel real damn good._

_Might just…oh…yeah, that's the good part. That "you know you're gon' die 'cause of this shit," moment. _

_Yeah. So, odds are, I'mma die today._

_Day 73_

_Well I'll be. Nearly died back there. Merle's sorry ass woke up long 'nough to realize I wasn' breathing. Guess I over did it, eh? _

_Ever'hing's fuzzy and whatever. Guess it's a sign. Maybe I'll clean up my act afta all._

_Day 75_

_Merle said he'd personally kill me if I didn't stay clean. What the hell?_

_Day 80_

_I'm about to get out of here today. Dunno how that happened._

_So Merle, he's an okay dude. For a fuckin' hick. You wan' know what he said to me?_

_He told me, right up there, in the balcony that overlooks the yard "Katie, my brother, he's a good kid. Tough too. But he's a pussy. Need'sa real good look in the mirror. If I don't make it outta here, you gotta go find him, ya hear? He'll keep ya clean. Shit, that kid's always tryin' to get me to sober up. Ya listening?" _

_I looked at him like he had three heads. Me and Merle, we didn't do the deep shit. We weren't a bunch of sissies. _

"_We live down south a ways. You'll find the place," he said, handing me a crumpled piece of paper. "Please. Look out for my baby brother?"_

_Those were the last damn words he said 'fore I was released into the free world once more._

_Might head on down that way. See what Daryl Dixon's like. Prolly a pig like that broth' of his. But damn, this itch. I needa do somethin' with my life, ya know? Somethin' worth dying for._

* * *

Katie looked at me with wide eyes as she closed the tattered old notebook.

"Merle said that to you?" she breathed.

"Uh-huh," I shrugged. I was barely listening. I was too busy forcing myself to stay awake. "Hey Ang?"

"Huh?"

"Can we go back to my cell? I ain't feelin' up to socializin' today," I muttered. I felt her hand press against my forehead before she hauled me to my feet.

"Thank you," came a voice far gentler than I had expected. I turned to see Daryl holding my ratty old notebook in his hands. I smiled weakly at him, before the floor spun out of control. Angel felt my sag in her arms, but instead of keeping me upright, she sat me on the floor, shoving my head between my knees.

"Real easy now, breathe," she whispered.

"This happen often?" Hershel asked. She hadn't let him near me for the last week.

"She's fine, no thanks to you," Angel spat.

"Shu' up," I muttered. I couldn't stop the spinning. Even with my eyes pressed shut, the spinning wouldn't stop. "Shu' up."

* * *

_A/n - I don't know how I feel about this chapter. It was more difficult to write than I had hoped, and I kept on changing my mind. I'd love a little feedback, before I decide to scrap it again and start over. _


	10. Chapter 9 - Sacrifice

I was carefully walking the fence, Scout at my side, my sharp hunting knife in my hand when I saw him. I didn't need to know him to know who he was. He came by foot, a walker out on what could only be described as a catch pole in front of him, a vaguely familiar man walking behind him, bound and gagged, a heavy looking chain around his neck.

I was overly aware of Glenn and Rick flaking me then. Rick's heavy breathing didn't ease the anxiety building in my chest.

"Thought he was dead," Rick growled softly.

"Guess not," Glenn muttered.

"What'da'ya think he wants?" Rick questioned.

"Me," I whispered as the figure came into the view. I was able to identify the walker too, even though he was mutilated past recognition. My heart dropped as my insides twisted at the sight.

Scout let out a low, menacing growl before letting a low whine loose. Angel appeared out of nowhere, her hand pressed against the small of my back.

"Breathe, Kate," she hissed. "We were expecting this."

The man stopped a few yards away. He was protected by walkers. No one could get a clear shot. He smiled at me. At me directly.

"So, there, Kate, this 'un look familiar?" he shouted.

I flinched. Yes. He looked familiar.

"Scottie here put up a real good fight, he sure did. 'Fore he told all your dirty little secrets, that is," he laughed. "Bet you didn't tell them why you and your lot got turned away from Woodbury, did you? Bet that pretty little bitch o' yours don't know neither."

"What he is talking about, Kate?" Angel hissed.

"He's lying," I spat. "You ain't know a thing 'bout me, Governor," I spat angrily.

"Know your 'ol man used to beat you till you blew 'im!" he taunted.

"Shut up," I growled. Anger bubbled in my chest.

"I know your big brother hated you more than he ever let on," he continued. "He thought you were a good for nothing whore."

"Shut up!" I roared, throwing myself at the fence. The walker on the leash, Scottie, snapped at me, his eyes vacant, only hunger lingering.

"Ignore him, Katie," Rick said with a gruff tone.

"What's your point, Phillip?" Angel hissed. "What more do you want?"

"I want Daryl Dixon."

The words struck a chord. I deflated, my heart sinking. So that's what this was about.

"I want the damn redneck on a silver platter. You can have your worthless brother and Scottie back," he said, his tone as if we were trading hockey cards. "Merle's brother for your own."

"No," I said with a shake of my head. "Ain't gon' happen."

"That's too bad, really. I woulda thought in this day and age blood was everything," he chuckled. "One last chance, little girl."

"No," I shouted. My eyes filled with tears we I watched the Governor shoot my brother in the chest.

"Daryl Dixon is worth more than your only survivin' kin?" he growled. I fought back an angry scream as I nodded my head vigorously.

"We don't turn on our own, unlike the likes of you," I growled.

"Fine," he shrugged. "Maybe you'll trade him for your little niece."

My heart dropped to my feet. Annabelle, my six year old niece was chained behind her father's dead body, her eyes wide with fright.

"Don't you hurt her!" Rick shouted.

"Then hand over Daryl," he taunted.

"No," I shook my head. "I ain't losing no one else."

I walked as close to the fence as I dared - my gun level with Scottie's head. I took a deep breath as I shot him down, before training my gun on the wicked, demented man's head.

"You hurt her, you die," I cooed.

"Ain't gonna happen, slut," he spat. Before I could react, he was shooting her in the face.

"No!" I moaned, my knees giving way. I hit the ground, tears falling from my eyes as her body fell beside her father's. "No!"

Gun fire rang out around me, but I was oblivious to it. All I was aware of was the moans and grumbles of the Walkers surrounding the fence. Even when that monster of a man went down, screaming bloody murder, I couldn't react. Everything seemed to move in slow motion.

I was vaguely aware of hands hauling me to my feet, a strong arm pulling me away from the scene in front of me. It wasn't until much later that I learned it had been Glenn, who had shot the Governor in the knee, who dragged me back into the safety of the prison.

"Katie, come on honey, talk to me," Angel pleaded, her hands on my shoulders as she shook me. I just stared blankly ahead, unable to wrap my head around what had just happened. "Katie, please."

"What do you want me to say, Angel?" I hissed. I blinked and looked at her, my heart aching in my chest. "What do you want me to say? I just made a decision that'll haunt me the rest of my fucking life."

"It's not like Rick would've let you do otherwise," she said gently.

"To hell with Rick. It wasn't him who just lost two people. It was me. All me, Angel. I made the same god damned decision I made back in Atlanta with Lana and Ted. The same god damned decision I made when it was us or Bes. Don't you see it?" I screamed. I pulled away from her, slamming my fists into the concrete wall. "Time and time again, I'm stuck choosing. Family or people who I owe my life to. Over and over and over!" I felt anger boiling in my chest again. "I'm sick and tired of owing people!"

"You didn't owe Daryl anything!" Angel spat. "You could have told Phillip straight out that you'd make the trade. Don't mean it woulda happened!"

"I couldn't do that," I sighed. I turned to her, my eyes filled with tears. "I couldn't turn my back on him."

"Why not? For god's sake, Katie, you barely know him!"

"You weren't there," I shook my head. "You weren't there the night I found him out in the middle of the road, half dead with a fever. You don't understand what went through my mind when I thought he was dead."

"What are you talking about?" she said, her eyes widening.

"I've lost a lot of people, Ang. I watched my husband tear my son to shreds. I watched my family die, one by one, some by my own hand. Don't you see it?" I whispered.

"You love him, don't you?" she asked, her tone gentle. "You're in love with Daryl Dixon."

I didn't say anything, just turned on my heel and stomped up the stairs leading to his cell. He was looking at me with sad eyes. He'd heard Angel and me screaming.

"Your brother was wrong," I whispered as I passed his cell. "Someone else is capable of caring about you."

I walked into my cell, letting my tears flow freely. That day, I'd let the last of my kin die, to save a man who I owed nothing to. To save a man, whose brother was the reason my group fell apart. To save a man, who would never be capable of seeing how much he's cared about.

That day, I'd sacrificed all I had left to give, to keep from losing someone I barely knew.

* * *

_A/n - Screw writers block! Sorry about the late update! I promise, I'll have more soon!_


	11. Chapter 10 - Successful Hunt

I was lying on the old bedroll on the floor, like I had been for the last week. Scout was lying next to me, his furry head rested on my arm as I stared at the ceiling, aimlessly shooting my little metal balls into the air, watching them as they embedded themselves into the hard concrete. It was almost as if they were disappearing into the prison, just like everyone else.

It had been a week since I watched my brother and niece killed. It had been a week since I'd given anyone the time of day, much less carried a conversation. Except with Scout. I talked to Scout. And Judith. Beth often left the infant with me if she had something she had to tend to.

I was jostled from my thoughts when someone cleared their throat. I rolled over, knocking Scout off the bedroll to find Daryl standing in the doorway, his arms crossed across his chest.

"What?" I grunted. He looked at me, but said nothing for a while. Annoyed, I flopped back onto my back, continuing my mindless task of releasing the pellets into the air.

"Why'd you do it?" he asked me. I ignored his question. Rick had asked me the same thing a million times that week. Each time, I only grunted in response.

"C'mon Kate, just say it," he growled. "Just tell me why."

"I owed you my life. I gave you my kin. We're even," I growled. "I don't owe you anymore."

"You really think that?" he spat with disgust. "You really think you owed me anything? Ain't owed me a damn thing, you stupid bitch."

"Whatever," I grunted, turning my back to him. I felt tears well in my eyes. I brushed them away quickly. But Daryl was observant.

I was overly aware of him crossing the small distance. When Scout got up from the floor, I knew Daryl was leaning over me. I felt his hand on my shoulder as he pushed me onto my back so I was looking him in the eyes. His clear, bright blue eyes glowed in the dim light casted off by my lantern.

"Thank you," he whispered. I could see the sincerity in his eyes. His forehead was slick with sweat. I reached up carefully, the back of my hand gingerly touching his face.

"You're still burning up," I groaned. Hershel was at a loss as to what was causing Daryl's fever.

"Always am," he muttered. He sat down next to me, resting his head in his hands. "Heard what you said to Angel after that," he said softly. His tone was too gentle. Like he was talking to a baby, instead of a grown ass woman.

"Oh," I muttered. "So?"

"So," he grunted. We lapsed into an awkward silence. I was about to say something when I heard the familiar giggle of my favorite baby. I stood up, a smile creeping on my lips as I walked into the main room, where Beth was standing with Judith in her arms. The baby looked up at her for a moment, before bursting into tears.

"Lemme see her," I said as I crossed the room, raising my hands to take Judith.

"She's been so fussy today," Beth said with a sigh. "I can't get her to settle down." She handed the baby to me and watched as I hitched her onto my hip, gently rubbing circles into her back.

"Hey there, precious little girl, no need to cry now," I cooed as I bounced her up and down. She stopped crying and looked at me with tear filled eyes. "Someone's teethin', huh?"

As if you prove it to me, she opened her mouth and sure enough, her two front teeth were coming in.

I carried the baby back and forth as I paced the room, letting the little child keep me from losing my composure. She stopped fussing long enough for me to lift her up so she was rested against my chest, her little head snuggled into my neck. I continued to pace, Scout at my side as he always was these days.

"I close my eyes, only for a moment and the moment's gone. All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity. Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind. Same old song, just a drop of water in the endless sea. All we do, crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see… Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind. Don't hand on, nothing last forever but the earth and sky. It slips away, all your money won't another minute buy. Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind," I sang softly, rocking her in my arms. She cooed softly, her little hands gripping at my face. I took her hand in my free hand and kissed her tiny fingers.

"You haven't sang your daughter's lullaby in ages," Angel observed as she came out of her cell. Since the incident, she had moved into her own cell, offering me the privacy I so desperately craved.

"I know," I whispered, looking at the child in my arms.

"You know, you made the right decision, right?" she said softly.

"About what?"

"About coming here. About taking our chances. About not going off to find the guys or look for your brother. All those choices, were the right ones," she said gently. "We belong here."

"I know," I said with a sad smile. "But it doesn't change the fact that what I did goes against everything I was ever taught. Family is everything, now more than ever."

"A stupid ol' druggie told you that, didn't he?" she smiled. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Merle was anything but stupid, sadly," I laughed. "I almost hate to admit it, but I could use some less than friendly abuse right about now."

"Not in front of the baby!" Beth chuckled.

"Not that," I laughed, feeling my face grow warm. "I mean, when we were locked up all those years ago, we'd be at each other's throats like cats and dogs. I almost miss it."

"You're so strange," Angel laughed, taking Judith from me. "Have you…ya know, done anything productive lately?"

"I taught the pup to roll over," I laughed whole heartedly for the first time in a long time. "Other than that, I cut my finger nails and finally cut my hair."

"Obviously, such important tasks!" Angel laughed.

"I'm going to go out and try to find some food. Wanna come?" I offered.

"Naw, take Dixon with you. I'm sure you two can find something to argue about," she laughed. "'Sides, Hershel's convinced Daryl's just got a permanent fever."

"Ehh, last time we were out there, he almost died on me," I sighed, my mood changing as soon as the words left my mouth.

"He's not a child, ya know," Beth said softly. "He won't break the second he steps outside."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered with mild annoyance. I wasn't about to risk Daryl's health, or my own, by bringing him along. Instead. I grabbed my bag, my small bow, and headed towards the door.

"Wait," Rick's rough voice demanded. I stopped and turned to him, glaring him down. "Take Daryl with you."

"God damnit, no!" I growled.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I ain't looking to be liable for anyone else," I muttered as I pushed past him. I felt him follow me, but it didn't stop me from picking up my pace, making a beeline for the coral the horses were kept in. I mounted Arrow, bareback, with Scout following at my side. Without another word to Rick, I waited as Glenn opened the gate for me. Glenn was real good about stuff like that. He wouldn't let anyone talk me down, especially when it was for the good of the group.

I kicked Arrow into a gallop, using my machete to cut down the Walkers that got too close. We made it into the trees with no problems. I pulled the horse back, letting him go at a slow trot, my eyes scanning the bare trees for any sign of life.

Sure enough, after an hour of searching, we stumbled upon a small herd of deer. I pulled the horse up and signaled for Scout to remain silent. He sat patiently, waiting for the next command. I stood on the horse's back, my feet carefully placed just right. I quietly lifted myself into the tree above us until I had a clear view of the deer. I took my bow off my back and loaded an arrow carefully, my heart racing in my chest. I was far from 100%, but I was better than I had been in a long time. Bracing my back against the trunk of the tree, I took aim.

My arrow whizzed through the air, striking a large buck in the side. He let out a startled cry and tried to take off, scaring the other deer in the process. But I had been smarter than that. I looked to the left and saw the large snare Daryl had set up months ago.

"Scout, herd," I commanded softly. He took off like a bullet, running circles around the injured buck, until I heard the satisfied snap of the snare. A moment later, I was slamming my arrow into the buck's skull, amazed by the easy kill. I cut it from the snare before glancing at the horse, who was standing patiently. It was then that I realized having a second set of hands would have been helpful. I had no idea how I was going to get the deer back to the prison in one piece.

"Scout, go get Rick," I commanded. The dog cocked his head as if he didn't quite understand my request. "Go on, get Rick," I tried again. Again, he looked at me with a curious expression. "Go get Daryl?" I tried. Sure enough the dog took off, his feet kicking up the dead leaves on the ground.

I tried my best not to panic. There was no way I was leaving a kill this size in the woods unattended, but in the same breath, I was losing sun and fast. I tried to come up with a plan, but I was out of ideas. So I ended up sitting on the ground, my hands aimlessly twisting the arrow in my fingertips.

An hour later, I heard the familiar bark of my dog. I let out a single, low note, and waited. A moment later, he came running out of a bush, Daryl and Rick both close behind him.

"You kill that?" Daryl asked breathlessly. Apparently the dog had made them think something bad had happened.

"Uh-huh," I shrugged.

"How did you plan to get it back?" Rick asked, smiling smugly.

"I didn't," I chuckled. "That's why I sent Scout to find you."

"We could try to get it tied to the horse…" Daryl said doubtfully.

"The horse can't carry that much weight," I countered. "If he was well fed maybe, but not on the feed he's currently on. He can probably drag it back though."

"Then why'd you need us?" Rick asked curiously.

"Someone needs to cover us," I shrugged. "Otherwise the Walkers are gon' be on us like flies on shit."

"She's right," Daryl nodded. He looked tired. He was pale and his face glistened with sweat.

"Hog tie the buck, I'll go ahead a ways and see if we can get back the way I came," I said quickly. The sooner we were back, the better. I was terrified that Daryl would drop at any second.

"Hog tie? Why hog tie?" Rick asked.

"The more skin we can keep on it, the better. Winter's coming fast, Rick. We're gon' need all the blankets we can get," I laughed.

"You can do that?"

"Daddy used to be a hunter. My granddad used to skin the deer every winter. Made a lot of rugs and blankets out of the skin. Moccasins and gloves too. I ain't know all the tricks, but I know enough to get this fella skinned and tanned," I shrugged.

"Always full of surprises, that 'un," I heard him say to Daryl as I took off, my feet barely making a sound as I ran through the bushes.


	12. Chapter 11 - Because I Care

"We can't go back that way," I said breathlessly as I broke through the last of the bushes. I bent over, my hands on my knees, gasping for breath. I felt a steady stream of blood flowing from my wrist, where I had snagged myself on a sharp thorn.

"Walkers?" Rick asked.

"What else?" I gasped. I stood upright, pressing my hand firmly on my wrist.

"You bit?" Daryl asked.

"No, cut my wrist's all," I sighed, showing him to settle his nerves. He pulled out his bandana and tied it firmly around my wrist.

"Don't need ya bleedin' all over," he muttered.

I said nothing, just looked around for Scout, who was nowhere in sight. I whistled softly and waited. I heard nothing.

"Where the hell did that mutt get to," I muttered as I pushed away from the men, whistling again. This time, I heard a familiar bark, followed by a low, painful whine. A few moments later, Scout came limping out of the bush, his side torn almost clear open.

"No," I whispered, falling at his side. He whined and looked up at me with sad, pained eyes. "I'm so sorry, Scout," I whispered, stroking his head softly. He collapsed into my arms, his breathing ragged. I pressed my face into his soft fur, my heart breaking for the millionth time since the apocalypse began.

"Katie, we're losing light," Rick said firmly. I looked up, but was surprised to see Daryl coming between us. He knelt next to me and stroked the dog's head.

"T'was a good dog," he said softly. I nodded my head and took a deep breath before pulling my hunting knife out of my boot.

I leveled it with his head, but couldn't bring myself to make the cut. Scout twitched in my arms, howling softly. His blood spilled out all over me, but I didn't care. This was my best friend we were talking about. In the short time I'd known him, he'd given me so much strength it wasn't even funny.

"Shh, I'll do it," Daryl said softly, turning me so I was no longer holding my dog. I heard another whine, then nothing. Complete silence. Arrow whined softly, before tossing his head, indicating that we didn't have any time to lose.

"We'll have to circle around the herd," I said softly, standing, my hands shaking. "And hope we don't run into anything that wants the deer as much as we do." I took the ropes and tied it around the horse's midsection, making a rugged, makeshift harness. I tied the deer carefully to the rope, before taking off my jacket. I wrapped it around the deer's midsection in hope that it would save the precious skin.

"Daryl, lead the horse. Rick, go up a ways and try to lead us in a straight line. I'll bring up the rear," I commanded. I didn't flinch when Rick shook his head and started to argue, instead, I simply sighed and mounted the horse.

"Forget it, I killed it, I'll bring it home," I spat. I kicked the horse into a slow trot, ignoring Daryl's impatient calls. The horse grew tired quickly, his pace slowing significantly the farther we walked. After a while, I sighed and got off his back, allowing him to rest. He grazed on the dying grace, his ears pricked as he listened to the sounds of the nearby walkers.

"Told ya to wait," Daryl said breathlessly, scaring me half to death.

"Sneak up on me one more time, Dixon, and it'll be your ass we're eating," I snarled. He cocked an eyebrow, a tight smile forming on his lips.

"Really are a spitfire, ain't ya?" he teased.

"Shu'up," I muttered.

"Rick's sorry, ya know," he said softly. "He ain't used to bein' bossed 'round by a girl."

"Yeah well, I kept my people alive and intact out here 'lot longer than he did. We didn't have enough men to pull the weight. Us girls, we kept things runnin' smoothly," I spat. "So sick and tired of people still thinkin' gender makes a difference. I got more balls than half the men you've got back there!"

"Whoa, chill," he chuckled. "Don't argue with ya there."

I growled under my breath then turned back to Arrow. "He's tired," I muttered, rubbing the horse's flake. "If we run into trouble…"

"We won't. Rick's up ahead clearin' a path for us," he smiled. "C'mon."

We continued in silence. The only sound was that of the horse's hooves hitting the dirt and the deer scraping across the ground. When we cleared the trees, I could see Michonne, Glenn, Maggie and Rick taking down Walkers, keeping us free from attacks. I smiled and slapped the horse's flake, urging him to pick up speed. That was when I realized Daryl was no longer following behind me. I let the horse get ahead before turning back. I found Daryl leaning against a tree, breathing hard.

"Daryl?" I called softly. He put up a hand, stopping me in my tracks. He keeled over, his hands on his knees and he emptied the contents on his stomach onto the ground. Panic rose in my chest as I came up beside him, slinging his arm over my shoulder. Even as weak as I still was, he was weaker.

"Arrow, straight forward," I called to the horse. He seemed to nod his head as he kept going towards the gate where Carl waited.

"What happened?" Rick called, looking towards us.

"Dunno," I called back. "Keep us clear," I added as I struggled to support Daryl's weight. He groaned and slipped away from me, his knees giving way.

"Crap, Daryl, c'mon, ya just gotta make it to the gate," I pleaded. He looked up at me, his eyes full of fear. I gingerly touched my hand to his forehead. He was burning up. Worse than he had been for some time now.

"Rick!" I called as loudly as I dared. Glenn and Maggie were closer. Glenn and I lifted Daryl to his feet and carefully started walking forward, while Maggie provided us with enough cover to clear the field. We were almost at the fence when the herd turned towards us.

"Carl, let the horse in!" I shouted over the moans and growls of the Walkers. Maggie took over my position as Angel tore through the fence. Back to back, we fought them off, circling our friends without a single word.

Breathless, we managed to take out enough walkers to allow us to reach the fence in one piece. Once inside, I sank to my knees, breathing hard, the events of the last hour finally catching up with me.

"Easy, Katie," Angel said softly, her hand on my back.

"M'fine," I said softly. "How's Daryl?"

"Hershel's got him, Glenn and Maggie got him up in C again," she said. She stood over me while I took deep, even breaths. I felt my heart finally slow and breathing becomes easier. I looked up and saw the walkers clawing at the fence, hunger apparent in their eyes.

"Les' go," I said softly. Angel nodded and helped me to my feet while Rick tended to the horse. He had moved the deer so it was far enough from the fence. In that moment, I had no concern for it. I just wanted to sit down and breathe.

We made it into the cell block just in time to hear Daryl empty his stomach again. I winced at the sound, my own stomach turning just at that alone. Angel led me towards the back corner, where I sat down, for once without my faithful friend at my side.

"What happened out there?" she asked, motioning to the blood that still covered my pants and shirt. "I know you hunt cleaner than that."

"Scout got bit and tore up…" I whispered, unable to keep the sadness from my voice. "I don't even know how it happened. He was always so careful."

"Well than it's a good thing Carl found a few puppies down in the tombs this morning, huh?" she smiled sadly.

"Why was Carl in the tombs? Was he by himself?" I almost snapped. The last thing we needed was the kid running amuck all his lonesome when there were still walkers in the prison.

"He was looking for supplies. And no, I was with him," she chuckled. "Nice to see your motherly instincts are still intact. Want to see the pups? They're pretty cute."

"Whatever," I muttered. I didn't look up until I heard the familiar yaps of puppies. To my surprise, she was right, the puppies were adorable. I looked at them for a moment, before gasping.

"What?" Angel asked, her eyes widening as she took one of the three puppies from Carl.

"Those aren't puppies," I said softly. I took the pup from her, running my hand down its back. "They're wolf pups."

"No way!" Carl said excitedly. "Can we keep them?"

"They're young enough to train," I thought out loud. "And wolves are hardy. They'd be great at tracking and hunting."

"Not that we'll need to go out any time soon, with that deer you brought in!" Angel said happily.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered. I looked at the dark little pup in my arms. I stood up and walked over to Daryl's cell. Hershel was still hovering over him. The pup in my arms began to squirm until I set her down on the floor. She bounded towards Daryl, her tail tagging.

I watched in amazement as she sniffed his hand, which was hanging over the bed. For being a wild dog, it seemed almost unbelievable that she would be so friendly.

"Is that a wolf?" Hershel asked me in a soft tone. I nodded and watched as the pup licked Daryl's hand before sitting on the floor beside him, her ears pricked.

"Looks like she's already got that loyal streak," I muttered. "How is he?"

"His fever spiked. What I don't understand is why. Or what's causing it in the first place," he said, a troubled look on his face. "We've tried everything. It's like one minute he's fine, the next, he's half dead."

"Lovely wording, Hershel," I muttered. "I'm going to try and get more medicine tomorrow," I added. "I'll take Angel with me. We'll go a few towns over and see if we can't find some more saline. I have a hunch as to what's causing his fever though."

"What?" Hershel asked, his eyes sparking with interest.

"Cancer, infection, lupus, Hershel, the list is endless. Let's just pray to whoever's listening that it's not cancer. We can't treat cancer," I said in a hushed tone.

"It ain't cancer," Daryl muttered. He looked at me with scared, sad eyes. "It ain't. Can't be."

"Daryl, anythin's possible," I whispered. I knelt down next to him, my hand gently stroking his cheek. "But don't you worry none. I'll find somethin' to take the fever back down, okay? I promise."

"Why do you care so much?" he asked, his tone almost childlike.

"Because I care about you, you idiot," I said gently. I planted a kiss on his forehead before standing and walking back out of the cell. The pup remained still, her eyes on Daryl's hand.

I was aware of Hershel following me, his eyes sad as he motioned for me to follow.

"If it is cancer…" he said, his tone worried.

"If it is, then it's all a matter of time," I whispered. "But I have this feeling…" I said softly.

"What kind of feeling?"

"I've seen this before. I don't remember where or when, but I know I have. Deep, deep down, I know it," I sighed.

"How'd your mama die again?" he asked gently.

"Stage four carcinoma. She found out three months before she died," I shrugged.

"Is that why you suggested cancer?" he asked, concern crossing his face.

"No. I wasn't around when my mama got sick. I was off doing drugs…Couldn't even sober up for her funeral," I sighed sadly. "I suggest cancer, because we're _looking_ for the cause. You can't just look for cancer. 'Specially now."

"You sure about going for this run tomorrow? You're still weak," he said softly. I could see the true fatherly instinct kicking in.

"Thanks for looking out for me, Hershel, but right now, Daryl needs something to take that fever down or it's gon' kill him. I can't watch that happen. I wasn't aware or lucid when my daughter died, but I am now. I sure as hell ain't about to watch a fever claim another person I care about," I said sternly, determination and pride dripping in my voice.

"You have to be careful, Katie. You can't afford to get hurt again," he said softly.

"I know."

I picked up one of the bigger pups, a round, almost jet black boy. I held him in my arms as I walked through the prison, out into the yard. I saw Carol cutting the deer up, the skin draped over a clothes line.

"Hey there," she called softly. She saw the concerned look on my face. "Daryl any better?"

"No," I sighed. I stroked the pup's face. "How's the deer coming along?"

"Good, good," she nodded. "It'll be ready in a few hours, I'd assume. Making stew tonight, smoking some of it for jerky, ya know?"

"Sounds good," I nodded, walking over to where the intestines laid. I picked up a small handful and offered it to the pup. He ate eagerly, his tail thumping against my arm. "Looks like lil' Hunter here likes it," I chuckled.

"I still can't believe Carl found them. How old do you reckon they are?" she asked me.

"About ten weeks or so, I'd say. More 'en old enough to start training," I smiled.

"So you're keeping them?" she asked, stroking the pup's ear. "Wolves, who knew!"

"I am. They'll make great hunters. Might be our saving grace this winter," I nodded.

"Where're you off to?"

I turned to face her, a sad smile on my face. "I need to wrack my brain until I come up with a liable explanation as to why Daryl's fever just won't break."

"Good luck," she said sincerely as she turned back to her work.

I sat against the overturned school bus, the little wolf cub in my lap as I watched the Walkers crowd around one side of the fence. As I watched, a thought finally dawned on me. It made sense. It all made sense.


	13. Chapter 12 - Broken Ties

"Someone has to find me a rat," I said after I had explained my theory to Hershel. "I need to know."

"But how could that have caused his fever? He had the fever before the transfusions…" Hershel mused.

"Kenzie died of Scarlet Fever, Hershel. I had her in my arms. I was coughed all over. It's very, very possible I was a carrier and didn't even realize it. And god only knows how normal, everyday viruses are now with the walker shit right outside our door," I said quickly. "If I'm right, we can treat this!"

"He'd need dialysis at the very least and we can't do that here," Hershel argued.

"No he wouldn't. He'd need a blood transfusion, one that isn't mine, and I know where to find that. I'm almost certain the hospital's blood bank was left untouched. I didn't think to check, because the place was still occupied, to say the least," I said quickly.

"Uh…found you a rat," Glenn said, holding the little creature by its tail. I took it from him and shoved it into the plastic container Carol had found.

"What're you gonna do with it?" Carl asked me.

"Inject it with a little bit of my blood and see what happens," I shrugged as if it were the simplest thing ever.

"Is that even…right?" he asked me, looking at me with a doubtful expression.

"Humans tested on rats for years, kiddo," I shrugged. I took out a clean needle and took off my belt. I tied it around my upper arm before sticking the needle into my vein, drawing a small amount of blood into the vial. I crinkled my nose as I picked the rat up by its tail and gently stuck the needle into the scruff of its neck.

"Now we wait," I sighed. I put the rat back into the plastic case and watched as it circled around angrily.

The next few hours went on with little change in the rat's behavior. Late into the night, I got the expected result. The rat started coughing. A few minutes later, it died.

"Hershel," I hissed. He had fallen asleep in the chair next to me. Upon my call, he woke up and looked at the rat, his eyes wide.

"You were right," he gasped.

"Whatever happened when scarlet fever and the outbreak combined, is lethal," I breathed. I stood up and looked out into the main room. I felt my heart break as I thought about what it meant for my friend. "I'm leaving now," I said softly.

"Katie, its suicide to go out there this late!" he gasped.

"I'll reach the hospital by sunrise, be back before lunch," I said quickly.

"You don't even know what you're looking for, Kate," he said softly.

"I'm looking for antibiotics, O neg blood and a really, really strong vitamin. Hershel, this is scarlet fever to the max. If we can flush his blood enough, we can break this damn cycle he's going through before the fever kills him," I spat.

"Katie, this isn't typical Scarlet and you know it. This is far, far worse. As far as we know, it could be too late already," he said gently.

"I don't care," I growled. "I'm leaving. Tonight," I said as I wheeled away from him, grabbing my bag off the floor.

Angel was waiting for me in my cell. She had clearly heard the entire conversation.

"You know, he's got a point. Daryl's had a fever for almost two months. If there's brain damage…" I cut her off with an angry glare.

"If there was brain damage, how the hell was Daryl perfectly fine earlier? Tell me that, Angela!" I spat angrily.

"All I'm saying is, it's not worth risking your life for something you don't know you can fix!" she argued.

"Fuck you, Angel. I went back for you, didn't I? You were surrounded. You were wounded. Fuck, I had my daughter to think about back then, and I still went back for you! How is this any different?" I growled.

"It's not. You were stupid then and you're stupid now. Always trying to play hero. Well guess what, Katie, playing hero gets you killed. Playing hero costs you people. When are you going to realize that?" she spat.

"Fuck you," I growled as I slung my bag over my shoulder. "Don't bother looking for me if I don't come back," I told her, shooting dangers in her direction. "You'd be the last person I'd ask for help."

"Good luck finding someone to go with you at this time a'night. Even Dixon ain't that stupid," she scoffed. "Still don't know why you're so dedicated to that damn redneck scum anyway."

"What did you just say?" I growled. I wheeled around, my fist connecting with her jaw. "Just remember, that _scum_ is the reason you have a roof over your head. Or maybe you've forgotten who defended our group. Who went out to get your sister and the rest of them. Or have you forgotten that so soon?"

"You're a bitch, Katie Anderson, a hopeless, stupid bitch!" Angel shouted as I stalked out of my cell, my heart racing in my chest. As much as I wanted to just run, just flee and not look back, I had to make a pit stop before I did. I carefully moved the sheet covering the doorway to Daryl's cell out of the way, entering carefully. He was lying awake, his pale face slick with sweat. The lantern on the table near the bed was burning, casting a dim like across the small cell.

"You are stupid," he muttered as he looked at me, his once bright blue eyes now dim. "You shouldn't go out at night."

"I know," I shrugged with a sad smile. "But I ain't losing ya, okay?"

"Ain't go'n nowhere," he muttered.

"Sure as hell ain't," I smiled. I brushed his hair off his face, overly aware of how he flinched every time someone touched him. I leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth softly before turning my back to him. "You're gonna get better Dixon, I'll see to that."

Michonne was waiting for me by the cell block door. She nodded once and together, we made our way outside. Tyreese waited for us by the gate as we climbed into the Hyundai.

"You don't have to come with me," I said softly to her. The bigger pup, Hunter, was snuggled in my lap, his tail thumping against my stomach.

"Just you and a dog? Right. You need the backup," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "'Sides, can't let you take all the glory in saving Daryl, huh?"

"Suppose so," I laughed as I pulled out of the prison yard, my heart racing with anticipation. It was going to be a long drive, in the middle of the night, with nothing but our headlights to lead the way.

"Here's to trying, all or nothing," I muttered. It was a phrase my father had used numerous times before. I spared one look back at the prison, before slamming down on the gas, ignoring the swarm of walkers trying to make their way to the car. Michonne was quiet, though I could see just as much determination burning in her eyes.

That night, neither of us was sure if we'd return. Alive.


	14. Chapter 13 - Bitter End

Michonne watched the road as we drove in the darkness, silence our only company. The road was more or less deserted, despite the late hour. Or early hour, depending at how you looked at it. I pulled over to the side of the road after three hours, my back aching from sitting so stiffly for so long.

"Slide over," I said quickly. We traded seats without leaving the car. She pressed down on the gas and tore off, her face set in a mask, hiding all emotion, as she drove. I leaned against the window, overly aware that maybe Angel and Hershel had been right. Maybe I should have waited until morning.

I drifted into a restless sleep. Michonne woke me some time later, gently shaking my knee.

"We're here," she said softly. I opened my eyes and blinked against the bright sunlight. Sure enough, we were in northern Florida. I knew the area well and wasn't surprised to see the old hospital still standing.

"Any walkers?" I asked her. I pulled my hair into a tight bun, carefully tying it so it couldn't get snagged on anything.

"None so far," she said, her face showing a little concern. "It's strange."

"Let's not question it," I shrugged. I opened my door, carefully stepping out into the warm air. Even though it was almost winter, the beautiful Florida sun shined down on us.

I started towards the hospital, the small wolf pup following at my side, his oversized paws tripping him up every now and then. Hunter looked up at me with beautiful golden eyes, his little tail wagging as he bounced around every time he almost fell. I smiled down at him before concentrating on the task at hand.

"We should split up," Michonne suggested. "We'd cover more ground."

"No, let's stick together. We don't know what we're walking into," I argued. She nodded and followed me as I pushed open the door.

* * *

**Angel**

"Hershel, it's no use, we can't stabilize him!" Maggie cried. Glenn was hovering close by, his hand lingering on his gun.

"We can't give up on him. Katie and Michonne are out there, right now, risking their life to find medicine," he said softly. He was worn out. We all were. Soon after Katie had taken off, Daryl's health took a turn for the worst. We were barely able to control the seizures, much less keep his vitals even remotely stable.

"He won't want to turn," I said grimly. "We should…you know."

"He's still alive," Rick growled. I looked at him with wide eyes. A moment earlier, he was arguing with me on trying to keep him alive.

"Make up your mind, Rick. You can't keep changing your mind," I muttered to myself as I looked down at the fallen hunter. His body seized again, the fifth time in the last 30 minutes.

"Even if he does survive, with a fever this high…" Hershel's statement broke off. We all knew what he was trying to say. There's no way Daryl would come out of this without some kind of lasting effect.

"Handcuff him to the bed," I said with a shrug, taking all emotion out of the situation. "I sure as fuck don't want to have to try and fight off a zombie version of the best hunter this prison's got," my words came off as cold, careless. But in reality, I cared. I cared because Katie was going to be devastated. Katie didn't deserve to lose anyone else.

* * *

**Katie**

"I've got the blood," Michonne said, reappearing at my side. I was shoving the last of the antibiotics into my bag. I nodded, a strange feeling filling my heart.

"Something's wrong," I hissed. We both ducked behind the counter, our hands on our weapons of choice. We waited for the sound of walkers, but it never came. Michonne shot me a doubtful look, before standing upright, her hands on her hips.

"You're losing it, girl," she said with a shake of her head. "Let's go, if we leave now, we'll be back before lunch."

"Yeah, yeah," I nodded, my heart still racing in my chest. She shot me another look before leading the way out of the hospital, into the warm late autumn air. We neared the car in time to see the herd of walkers slowly making their way down the street. There were hundreds of them.

"Shit," she hissed, looking at me.

"We'll be fine," I sighed, sliding into the driver's side of the car. "Hang on," I said as I spun the car around, slamming down on the gas without a care in the world. The car squealed on the pavement before tearing down the street, narrowly making its way through the incoming danger. It didn't take more than a mile or two to lose the herd all together.

We made it back to the prison late into the morning, both of us on red alert. As soon as we were through the gate, we knew something was horribly wrong.

* * *

**Angel**

I watched as one of my best friends came through the fence, my heart sinking to my feet. I knew she was going to hate us for the news we had to tell her. She was going to hate me for not going out to find her, to bring her back in time.

No one had the nerve to go back into that cell. No one had the strength to end his suffering. Maybe, looking back, we should have. We should have spared Katie of having to be the one to look at the man she cared so much about and watching him waste away in the matter of hours.

But we didn't. Instead, Rick simply shook his head as she ran past him, the bag long forgotten on the ground as she hurried through the prison, her entire body crumbling as she looked into the cell.

The snarls would haunt her the rest of her life.

* * *

**Katie**

"God, no," I whispered as I watched him jerk and pull at the restraints, his teeth snapping, his eyes wild. The man who had went against all instinct to save my group, now wanted nothing more than to devour our flesh. I watched in horror as the skin around his wrists began to peel back with every disheartening jerk.

"Daryl," I whispered, tears flowing freely down my cheeks as I walked into the cell, absolutely no fear even crossing my mind. I sat on his bed as he pulled towards me, hungry groans escaping his lips. "All you had to do was hang on a little longer," I whispered. I brought my hand up to touch his face. I didn't stop when he snapped at me. Instead, I brushed his hair gently from his eyes before bringing my other hand up, this time, wielding my sharp hunting knife. Without hesitation, I slammed the blade through his skull, the sickening crunch ending his hungry, broken moans.

I sat there in silence, cradling his now limp body in my arms, silent sobs tearing through my body.

Despite everything, we had been too late.


	15. Chapter 14 - Here Our Story Ends

_I'm following suit and directions  
I crawl up inside for protection  
I'm told what to do and I don't know why_

_I'm over existing in limbo  
I'm over the myths and placebos  
I don't really mind if I just fade away – Stone Sour "Zzyzx Rd"_

* * *

**Angel**

The night Katie left the prison, was the night following Daryl's unforeseen demise. She left without a word, taking with her, Hunter, the largest of the three pups, along with Daryl's crossbow, her small bag of personal items, and enough food to last her half a week. She didn't wait until we were all asleep to leave, instead, she simply walked out of the prison, into the yard, jumped onto Daryl's bike and nodded at Ty to open the gate. He didn't want to, but he knew she'd run him down if he didn't.

With that, like a leaf in the wind, she was gone.

That was six months ago. In that time, a lot has changed in the prison. A lot hasn't. Rick's still bringing in strangers, though no, he does so without his right hand man. Michonne looks for Katie every single day, determined that she'll find her, one way or another.

Me? Well I'm taking care of the children. Carol was killed a month after Daryl died when there was a breach in the back fence. We lost a lot of good people that day, but it didn't affect us how it once would have. We were all numb to the loss of our people now. I think losing Daryl really was the final nail in the coffin.

Maggie found out she was pregnant and now Glenn is even more determined to keep her and the rest of the group safe. I can't help but be amazed by the strength and courage those two harbor, despite everything they've been through.

I was sitting out in the prison yard, the cool spring air nipping at my exposed skin, when I saw the wolf pups suddenly look up from their game. The smallest one, the little female that had stayed with Daryl right up until his death, who we named Bowah, let out a low howl before running towards the fence, her much larger brother, Blade, in toll.

I stood up, my hand reaching for the gun I never dared to leave without.

* * *

**Katie**

After I left the prison, I moved around a lot. I knew Michonne was tracking me, so I made sure to cover my tracks with everything I had. I often found myself tracking _her_. Hunter had matured into a very smart, very fast wolf, which was faithful to the end of the earth. We hunted together, found shelter together, and spent long hours putting as much distance between the prison and ourselves as possible.

I had his bike hidden deep in the woods, in a secluded spot that no one would ever think to look, while I was perched high in a tree, Hunter hidden in a small cave. I had no idea how long or how far we had traveled, but I was certain we had finally put enough distance between us. I let the cool spring air ease the tension from my muscles as I watched the forest come to life. Squirrels were coming out of their burrows, mice and rats scurried across the forest floor. It had been weeks since I last saw a walker, for which I was grateful. In the distance, I knew there was a house that had long since been abandoned. I knew it would suffice until I found something better. Or maybe I'd die peacefully there. I wasn't too concerned about living.

I waited until the sun began to set before setting off to find the house. Hunter ran beside the bike, his pace never slowing. We reached it by sunset and sure enough, it was abandoned. Not a walker nor human in sight. I pushed the bike around to the back, covering it under the thick branches of a fallen tree, before walking through the unlocked back door. I smiled to myself as I locked the door, pulling the blinds down on all the windows.

I collapsed onto the stained couch that sat facing the front door. My body ached. I groaned as I stretched out, Hunter standing guard at my side. It was then and only then, in the silence and security of that abandoned house, that I allowed myself to grieve.

After all that time, it had been the first time I willingly allowed the tears to fall freely, the sobs to break free and take over every ounce of my body. For it was then, that it really, truly hit me, that not only was I alone in this world, but I was the one who put down the one man who might have saved me. Not from the walkers or from the dangers this world posed, but from the monsters that lived within my own head.

* * *

**Angel**

I watched in amazement as Michonne came through the gate, a familiar wolf at her side. In her arms, was my best friend, the only person who ever understood me.

"What happened?" Rick called out, rushing to her side.

"Found her dead in an abandoned house in South Carolina," Michonne said sadly. "Bullet to the head."

"You think she was attacked?" he asked. I walked over slowly, my eyes tearing over as I looked at the angle of the wound.

"No," I said softly, my heart breaking into a million pieces. "She did this. She choose to roll over and die."

Saying the words out loud was my greatest fear. Even before we made it to the prison, Katie often talked about how it would have been easier to roll over and die, rather than keep on fighting. I guess in a way, it shouldn't have surprised me. She was tough, stronger than any woman I had ever met, but she was broken. From the moment she put a bullet through her husband's skull, she was broken. Losing her son, then her daughter, and finally everyone else she ever cared about, had been enough to push her so far over the edge, there was no coming back.

As it sunk in, I took my friend from Michonne and began digging the grave where her body would rest peacefully for the rest of time. Right beside the man she loved without even realizing it.

That night, the mood in the prison was grim at best. We were all lost in our own thoughts. No one could really come to terms with the last six months, but together, we somehow found the strength to keep pushing forward. Because that's what you do when the world ends. You either die, or you survive.

**The End**

* * *

_A/n - I want to sincerely thank everyone who has stuck around to see this story end! It means the world to me and has inspired me to continue writing! I know, I know, tragic end, right? Again, thank you, and hopefully you'll stick around to read some of my future fics!_


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